


Hazey

by squidling



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Guns, Knives, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Post Apocalypse, Stabbing, The Last of Us Universe, Trauma, Zombie Apocalypse, and theres no spoilers i promise, but dont worry you dont need any prior knowledge of the last of us, changed outbreak year for easier references, ive tried my best to explain anything that comes up, so tlou universe outbreak was 2013 in this its 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 39
Words: 83,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25962205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidling/pseuds/squidling
Summary: Living in a post-apocalyptic world from three years old, Jihoon hardly remembers a pre-infection world and has learned to survive in a crumbling society. Trauma has left him untrusting of anyone and anything. Circumstances leave him in a little town in Incheon and possibly as a cure for humanity. A naive Choi Seungcheol is desperate to get Jihoon the help he needs.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan, Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 68
Kudos: 140





	1. prologue: hazey

**Author's Note:**

> ive prewritten ten and a half chapters so i thought it was about time i started posting these bitches  
> ive been super attached to the last of us for six years now so i thought itd be nice to incooperate my two worlds
> 
> THAT SAID!!!!!!!!!!!  
> no prior knowledge of the last of us is required. ive explained everything you need to know when it comes up to the best of my ability. there are no spoilers. i have taken parts of certain characters and added it to my own, however any links are only noticeable once youve played the entirety of both games. nothing is a major plot point to the last of us. i want this fic to be enjoyed by everyone whether or not theyre familiar with the game so i really hope ive succeeded with it!

His hand. Oh, god, his hand. Jihoon tried desperately not to look at it, but the fresh blood leaking from the wound was happily on display as he held onto his horse’s reins. He rode with a fierce expression, yet tears streamed down his face. Streaks of blood were dotted here and there. He only added to it as he wiped his eyes. Jihoon stifled every sob that came.

It had scarcely been an hour since he and his cousin/partner, Beomju, were each bitten by a swarm of infected. As per request, Jihoon shot him dead. It was only when he’d climbed upon his horse that he noticed his own bite mark. After the shock of his relative, Jihoon decided he’d wait his turn out, slowly lose his mind somewhere quiet.

He was trespassing now. He chose to ignore the shoot on sight warnings graffitied onto the sides of houses. All survival instincts seemed to have gone out of the window now that he knew he’d be good as dead in two days.

“There! Get him!”

Jihoon looked over. Two men in black had their guns pointing to his face. 

“I’m just passing through,” he called out, holding his hands up in surrender.

“He’s infected!”

Jihoon swore. For some stupid reason, it hadn’t occurred to him that the bite mark would be on both sides of his hand. He pulled on the reins but before Heather could gallop, a hand was on his leg, pulling him down. Heather came to a stop as an excruciating pain sprung in Jihoon’s abdomen. A girl had run up from behind and stabbed him. She stared at Jihoon in the snow and nodded.

“He’ll be good as dead before long. Leave the horse and maybe we won’t have a corpse on our land.”

They left him to die. Jihoon got the strength from somewhere to sit himself up. He held his hand on his side and groaned. He took an old t-shirt from his backpack to press against himself. Grabbing the stirrup of Heather’s saddle, he managed to pull himself up. His head spun in response. The last of his strength was used to climb onto the horse. Jihoon half collapsed once he was up. He leaned his head again Heather’s neck.

“Go on, girl,” he said weakly. 

She ran for minutes or maybe hours. Jihoon kept applying pressure to his wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. The survival instincts he had lacked earlier had finally kicked in.

The two came to a stop at what seemed to be a house in the middle of nowhere, but Jihoon assumed a road had been hidden by the snow. The garage had been left open. Jihoon rode in, then practically fell off of his horse in an attempt to get down. A button closed the garage door. 

In normal circumstances, Jihoon would check the house for loot, infected, and inhabitants. Obviously he didn’t have it in him now. He sat against the back wall. His vision was swimming far too much to look around the room. All he saw was a box of tools nearby. Ducttape sat on top. He took it, removed his top layers and taped the now bloody shirt tightly around his abdomen before redressing himself in his shirt, hoodie and jacket. He used the small amount of bandages in his backpack for his hand. It would never have gotten around his waist enough times - it only just fully covered the bite mark in one layer.

Then Jihoon shuffled forward and lay down. He closed his eyes, waiting to turn or waiting to bleed to death. Whichever came first. But mostly, he hoped to a god he didn’t believe in that he would wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we stan a prologue  
> ill try update w the next chapter within a week but i often forget so sorry in advance but i am actively writing so thats smth  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	2. i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i proofed this and got to the end like ????????????? bc its so short so sorry about that but there wasnt much to write about yet  
> they get longer i promise just hold ur horses pls and thank  
> enjoy

Jihoon did wake up. Enough times to see two nights through. The bleeding had stopped and as long as he stayed still, the pain did too. 

Everyone who was bitten turned within two days. Jihoon was now on his third. He was overdue, and he knew that. He kept his eyes shut and waited for the moment to come.

Jihoon jumped at the unmistakable groaning of the garage. He lifted his head to see it rising, two hands slowly pulling it up and the owner groaning at the weight. Jihoon leaned back again. Too vulnerable to do anything, the boy decided to play dead. 

Finally the someone scrambled in and let the door drop. Silence. Footsteps. Jihoon held his breath. A wave of warmth brought suspicion that something was hovering over his mouth. Probably checking for his breathing. Then a hand was on his chest, searching for a pulse. The person sighed with relief.

Jihoon hoped they’d leave, but the sound of movement and zips told him otherwise. He opened his eyes to see a man rummaging through his backpack.

Jihoon moved his hand as quickly as he could to place it on the guy’s arm. He jumped and looked over.

“Truce?” Jihoon weakly suggested.

“And what do we achieve from that?” The guy asked with raised eyebrows. He moved a hand to the knife in his pocket.

“Our lives. And a partnership. Are you alone?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a bad idea, right?”

The guy sighed.

“Have you got a good aim? With a gun?” He sounded a little desperate.

“I’ve made it this far so I’d say yes.”

The guy sighed again, this time in frustration. “Alright. Fine. Truce. I’m Seungcheol. Choi Seungcheol.”

“Jihoon. And I don’t give out my surname to someone I just met.”

Seungcheol nodded. He sat down, staring at the horse. Jihoon checked him out. He was fairly grubby (as were most people) and had blood on his face and his hands (as did most people). His black hair flicked across his eyebrows, almost in need of a haircut. His eyes were as cold as stone. A fairly bold scar ran across his cheek.

“Have you checked for loot?” Seungcheol asked.

“Do I look like I could have?”

“Why, what’s wrong with you?”

“Stabbed.”

Seungcheol puffed out his cheeks. “Alright. We’ll do it later, I guess.”

“Do I look like I can?”

“Okay, fine,” the guy stood up. “I’m looting now then. You get half.”

Jihoon thanked him. In his state, he had to trust him. Seungcheol pulled the door open with some force, hopefully a sign that no one had been here in years.

The house was empty. Seungcheol checked every room, high and low. There was some ammo, some old notes that he hoped were pre-apocalyptic (he liked to collect) and other bits and pieces. He was relieved by the truce. He tried to act tough, but he wasn’t used to this living out and about thing and was actually quite scared. Someone having his back was encouraging. Although that someone couldn’t walk. 

Seungcheol emptied his pockets. He sat down and organised the few things into piles in order to half everything. Jihoon noticed that when there was an odd number it was Seungcheol who got more, but he didn’t say anything. Of course, Jihoon got all the bullets.

“You look like you’d be good with a gun,” Jihoon commented.

“I grew up in a quarantine zone. Refused military training.”

“Ah.”

Quarantine zones were extremely plain areas of towns and cities cornered off. They were rather self explanatory - you got your food rationed, no one’s allowed in or out. Usually the homes were apartments of varying sizes, but nowhere luxurious. It was definitely somewhere you’d hide out if you had kids. It was the safest place to be. Many people there grew up to be soldiers - if not, they worked with handing out rations.

Jihoon had lived in one for a while too, until his parents succumbed to the infection when he was twelve. An uncle had taken him in and smuggled him out. From there, Jihoon helped with the smuggling business. He had always been small (especially for his age) so he fit in tight spaces, making him good for sneaking around. He smuggled anything from drugs, ammo, supplies and tools. A few times Jihoon had smuggled children younger than him. He killed his first soldier at age thirteen. It was a knife to the throat. 

From there, Jihoon became quite nifty with a knife, both with people and the infected. Then he moved onto guns. He’d earned a name for himself with his uncle’s group of people. It was partially why Jihoon didn’t give his surname out. Jihoon was just anyone, but Lee Jihoon had crossed so many people through ruthless killing that he couldn’t trust anybody. He’d known a few people to lose their lives by being caught by someone they’d messed with. And Jihoon had killed many people from many large groups.

“So how’d you get here?” Jihoon asked, sussing this guy out.

“I just move around a lot,” Seungcheol shrugged, “I don’t like to get comfy. Doesn’t feel safe.”

Jihoon understood. He was the same. 

“How about you?”

“Running.”

“Who from?”

“...The infected. And then the people whose land I was on.”

Seungcheol nodded. “Is that who stabbed you?”

“Yep.”

Seungcheol decided the boy was lucky. Usually they shoot, and usually that kills you. 

Jihoon fell asleep soon after. Even talking was exhausting. The last few days had been spent sleeping on and off, and he knew it was going to become an issue when he got back on his feet. But for now he accepted that he needed rest and let sleep take over. Seungcheol meanwhile took out an old, tattered book that he’d already read ten times, and spent a little while going through it. Once he’d read his third chapter he put it down and woke Jihoon up.

“I’m going hunting,” he said. “Keep your ears open.”

Jihoon yawned. Not even five minutes after Seungcheol had left did he fall asleep once again.

When he next woke up, it was by the garage door opening for the second time that day. Jihoon moved his hand to his gun just in case it wasn’t Seungcheol. He relaxed when he saw that it was.

“When did you last eat?” He asked the injured boy.

“Uh… few days ago.”

“Alright. I caught a rabbit. It’s difficult to hunt with a knife.”

Jihoon snorted. “You’ve got to learn to shoot.”

Food was scarce in the winter, so Jihoon didn’t complain that it wasn’t anything bigger than a rabbit. He sat up against the wall (with great difficulty) whilst Seungcheol prepared the animal and returned to the outside to create a campfire. When he came back, it was with cooked food.

The pair picked at it until there was only bone. Seungcheol let Jihoon take priority - he was the hungriest and absolutely the neediest right now. Jihoon was grateful. 

“We move tomorrow,” Seungcheol said, “I’m sure you’ll be fine with the horse.”

“I know.”

Seungcheol nodded. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonk  
> idk what to say  
> love u bye


	3. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when i promised that my chapters would get longer?? this ones 3k enjoy

The sun had only just risen and Seungcheol was shaking Jihoon awake. He helped him to stand. He almost laughed, commenting that Jihoon was much shorter than he expected, before helping him onto his horse and getting on in front of him. Heather was going strong thanks to the hay Jihoon had stuffed at the bottom of his backpack, but the already low supply had now run out. He just hoped he could get some more food for her in the next day or so.

They rode wherever Seungcheol’s instinct took them. Neither had a plan. They never did. It was a shame that it was winter and snow continued to fall; part of what Jihoon loved about riding was the scenery, but now everything looked the same and there wasn’t much to look at. Snow was fun as a kid. Now it was a nuisance and a pity. But even in the cold he was enjoying being back outside after several days of indoor rest.

They must be going over fields, Jihoon thought. There were only trees here and there. It was open and vulnerable, but at least they could see any enemies as well. With one arm, Jihoon held onto Seungcheol, and with the other he held his gun. 

Getting onto the horse and the general riding position was causing Jihoon’s stomach to hurt more than it already did. After maybe an hour or less, he gave in and leaned against Seungcheol. The guy’s backpack gave him a surprisingly comfortable surface to rest his head.

“You good?” Seungcheol asked. 

“Do you mind?”

“Whatever keeps you quiet.”

Jihoon scowled in response. He never said anything anyway. But he refrained from saying anything now and settled down. He watched the empty trees pass for a while, admiring the rising sun. His hand still held the gun ready. After years of experience, Jihoon knew enemies could appear from nowhere. But also, in case Seungcheol did something.

“So when did you leave your QZ*?” Jihoon asked.

“Uh… last Spring? I think?”

“Jeez. Newbie on the field.”

“Hey!” Seungcheol exclaimed, “I’ve survived!”

It was a while before Jihoon said anything else. Even if he was private himself, he still enjoyed leeching information.

“Where did you learn to ride a horse?”

“Someone took me in,” the guy explained, “and she had horses, so. She taught me.”

“What happened to her?”

“Soldiers.”

Jihoon nodded knowingly. He’d lost a few people that way too. It was usually either soldiers or infection. A few times, it had been the fireflies; a revolutionary militia group fighting against military oppression. Jihoon had once been given the chance to join them. He declined because he preferred to work alone. Plus he enjoyed the thrill of smuggling.

“Hey, check this out,” Seungcheol piped up. Heather came to a slow halt. Very kindly, he had positioned her so Jihoon didn’t have to lean over to look.

They were at a rocky ledge. Below, overgrown grass and bushes peaked out from the layers of snow. Then in the distance, Jihoon saw it. Buildings. Small houses. Like a little town. Lights were on and moving dots told him that it was populated. Jihoon’s eyes were wide.

“Does it look new to you?” He asked.

Seungcheol nodded. “Now how do we get down there?” 

“We’re going? God, you are new to this.”

“We need supplies, don’t we? We won’t invade. We’ll just see if they let us stock up and go. You need some help.”

As Heather got going, Jihoon scoffed and told him he was naïve. No one ever just let you in. You couldn’t even safely walk across some land. 

The way down was through bushes, over ledges, into water and onto ice. Seungcheol was guiding Heather a little too roughly for Jihoon’s liking. He snapped to be careful with her just as they took a fairly large leap. Jihoon held on tight, both arms around his new partner now, clinging for his life. It made his backpack dig into his stomach and he failed to stifle a few groans. Finally, after putting Jihoon (and probably Heather) in far too much pain, they were back on steady ground. Jihoon took a few deep breaths and leaned back into Seungcheol’s bag.

A weird groaning made him sit back up again. There was a lot of it. Jihoon looked over Seungcheol’s shoulder. Infected. Runners, to be specific.

Most people found runners the easiest to defeat, but not Jihoon. He preferred clickers. These were the ones whose faces had been invaded by fungus, growing out from the centre like an ugly flower. They made clicking, croaking sounds to use echolocation, since their lack of a face made them blind. The trick was to creep around and slit their necks. But runners… they could see you as well as hear you, as they were the first stage of the infected, the closest to when they were first exposed to the cordyceps brain infection (CBI), and that made Jihoon a little more concerned about them. 

“Just gallop,” Jihoon ordered weakly, “there’s too many.” Seungcheol did as he was told. Jihoon meanwhile shot at the ones who got too close. There were far too many to kill them all. 

It didn’t matter how many times Jihoon had been through them, fighting the infected still made his heart speed up. At least they were more predictable than people.

“Get through those bushes,” Jihoon said. Seungcheol looked around for them, then raced through. The branches caught runners off guard and they fell over them like a domino effect. 

“Don’t slow down.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

Heather kept running for a while longer until they were both sure no runners were chasing them. Seungcheol slowed the horse down and Jihoon rested against him.

“How are you holding up?”

“Uh… alright, I think.” A lie. Jihoon felt like he’d been stabbed all over again.

Seungcheol nodded. “It’s okay. I can see the houses. Just over there. Can you see them?”

Jihoon stared longingly. He was dying to lay back down. 

It wasn’t too long before they could see a gate.

“We’ll walk from here,” Seungcheol said, hopping down. Jihoon followed. The pain of his wound had almost made him totally weak and he came close to collapsing as he landed. 

Jihoon held onto Heather as he walked. Seungcheol led the way, looking behind him for the boy as he went. Jihoon was actually impressed. He got the feeling that Seungcheol had been alone the whole year. 

“Hands up!”

Two men were patrolling the gate. Their guns were poised. Jihoon and Seungcheol both raised their hands in surrender. 

“What do you want?” One asked. His deep voice did a good job at intimidation.

“We just want some help,” Seungcheol said, “he’s been stabbed.” He nodded towards Jihoon, who lifted up his shirt to show the bloody shirt taped to his stomach.

“Take the shirt off,” the first man ordered, “so we know it’s real.”

Jihoon held up his layers of clothes with one hand and with the other, he ripped away the tape, wincing as he did. He had to peel the shirt from his skin. He looked down to stare at the wound. He hadn’t looked at it yet. A thin, dark line protruded from a dried blood stain across his stomach. It looked almost as sore as it was. The skin around it was red, and boiling to the touch.

“That’s definitely real, Wonwoo,” the second guard said. “It looks terrible.”

“Yeah. He needs Mingyu.”

The second guard picked up a radio from his belt and spoke into it, introducing himself as Seokmin. He requested someone to pick up two men needing help from the gate. 

Jihoon was swaying. Seungcheol came over as a bit of support. The boy leaned on him gratefully.

“Can we get your names?” Seokmin asked.

“Choi Seungcheol.”

“Jihoon.”

“Surname?”

“Never knew it.”

This earned a weird look from each of them. Wonwoo muttered something about being a real cordyceps orphan.

Once all information had been passed over (they even collected visual descriptions, Jihoon noticed), Seokmin put his radio away and stated that someone’s on his way. 

Jihoon was relieved that neither had questioned his hand yet. He wouldn’t know what to say now. He should’ve turned by this point - it was the fourth day. Yet he felt fine. When Seungcheol was looting yesterday, Jihoon had unravelled the bandages. The skin around the bite had turned a pale pink, but nothing else. Victims usually reported feeling sick and dizzy near the time that they turned. Jihoon experienced this, but only when he’d aggravated his stab wound.

A few minutes later, the gate opened. Someone came through, introduced himself as Jeonghan, and looked the pair up and down. Jeonghan himself was surprisingly clean. People very rarely had the chance to wash clothing, if they had any with them, even in quarantine zones. Everyone was usually grubby, covered in anyone’s blood, with dirty and ripped clothing. But Jeonghan looked pretty neat. Jihoon fidgeted, suddenly feeling the most inferior he ever had since he’d started as a smuggler.

“Choi Seungcheol, was it?” He confirmed, “and just Jihoon?”

The two nodded. 

“Okay. Let’s get you patched up.”

They followed Jeonghan through with Seungcheol guiding Heather by her reins. Jihoon stumbled along. Jeonghan tried to put his arm around him for support, but the boy wriggled out again and insisted he didn’t need any help. Both Jeonghan and Seungcheol doubted that, but neither said a word. 

They seemed to be around the outskirts of the town. It wasn’t long before they reached what seemed like a street - a marketstreet. There was a butchers, a trading stall, and places that sold supplies like weapons, clothing items and bags. They passed a wooden playground where kids were having a snowball fight. Jihoon was impressed - as was Seungcheol. It was the closest thing to normal civilization that Jihoon had ever seen since Outbreak Day.

“How the hell…”

Jeonghan smiled. “A lot of hard work. We have electricity. Some of us have TVs. You can get films at that stall there. Our currency is just trading things like food, weapons, other supplies… anything with any value, really. Just common sense, I suppose.”

Jihoon nodded, trying to take it all in. It was amazing, even in the snow. People passing by nodded or sometimes smiled at him. Some were on horseback. Some were on foot. Kids ran around and lovers strolled with their hands intertwined. You almost wouldn’t have known anything was wrong with the world.

“Hey, Chan,” Jeonghan called out to someone standing nearby, “show Seungcheol to the stables.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“I’ll catch you later, Hoon,” Seungcheol said. 

“Take care of her.”

Jihoon watched Seungcheol and Heather walk over to Chan before turning back around. Jeonghan was waiting a little way off. 

Jeonghan seemed kind and Jihoon didn’t like it. In an apocalypse, when people were immediately nice to you, it usually meant they wanted something or were hiding something (if not both). He walked carefully, eyeing everything up around him should he need a quick escape. He stared the people up and down too, his gun ready in his hand. Jeonghan noticed.

“Hey,” he said softly, “you can trust me.”

Jihoon said nothing. He just held his stomach and stared. He was shaking.

“God, you’ve been through a lot, haven’t you? Let’s get you to Mingyu. You’ll be alright soon. It’s safe here. I promise.”

The two kept walking, albeit Jihoon a little hesitantly. They passed through some greenhouses, where Jeonghan named a few people they passed and some background information. Vernon, who was working away inside a greenhouse, stumbled upon this place after trespassers ransacked his family’s apartment. He was the only survivor. It had been several months now and he still didn’t say much to anyone. Seokmin meanwhile, one of the ones on patrol, was found at the gates several years ago with his big sister. He was always cheerful and the kindest person you’d ever meet, apparently, and Jeonghan suspected it was the naïvity of barely living rough. He had gone from a QZ to here. Jihoon scoffed.

“When’s the last time you slept in a bed?” Jeonghan asked.

“What?”

“Just tell me.”

Jihoon thought about it. Usually he fell asleep on the floor and if he was lucky, a couch. “Years ago.”

Jeonghan smiled. “It’s a little privilege check. I hope your back’s okay.”

After the gardens, he was taken down a path. They were lined by snow covered bushes. Jihoon imagined it was pretty in the summer. A part of him wanted to stick around long enough to see it. Quite soon they began to see lodges. A neighbourhood. Jihoon gasped. 

“The health centre’s just down this way. Well, it’s not a centre. It’s just a big room with supplies really. There’s only three beds. And one doctor. Mingyu, obviously.”

“And where did he train?” Jihoon asked, half sarcastically.

“The University of Science-ey and Doctor Parents,” Jeonghan smiled. “They taught him a lot. He also watched over research of the infected, so that’s pretty cool, I guess.”

Reminded of the infected, Jihoon’s hand began to itch. He tried his best to ignore it.

“Here,” Jeonghan said. They’d reached a brick (!) building with a white sign over the door. ‘Health Centre’ had been painted on it in blue. Jihoon didn’t realise paint still existed. He followed him in. 

Sure enough, three empty beds covered by checked quilts stood spaced out across the room. It was amazing how clean everything was. Jihoon had only ever seen abandoned places. Not even QZ had been clean. There were roaches and rats wherever you looked. But this place… no life could be seen apart from him and Jeonghan.

“Lie down, make yourself comfortable. I’ll go find Mingyu,” Jeonghan said, “I did tell him on the way to you, but he gets distracted easily when he’s out.”

Jihoon didn’t need telling twice. He shrugged off his backpack, dropped the tape and shirt from his shoulder, and happily lay down in a bed for the first time in years. It was a relief for both his back and his stomach. He still kept his gun close, though. 

Jeonghan opened the door to leave, but Jihoon stopped him for a moment after spotting a working clock. He couldn’t read it.

“Do you know the date?” He asked.

“Yeah. Twenty first of December. It’s Wednesday.”

“Holy shit,” Jihoon breathed. He hadn’t known the date since he had lived in a QZ.

Jeonghan left and Jihoon looked around with wide eyes. A fireplace was alight in the centre of the opposite wall, easily heating the entire room. Jihoon felt like he was burning in his multiple layers. He sat up to take off his jacket and hoodie before throwing them down beside his bag. To his right a glass cabinet stood against the brick wall. It, of course, held medical supplies. There was also a sofa opposite the beds. Several windows were dotted about and a second and third door nearby led to somewhere or other.Jihoon guessed a supply room and maybe a bathroom.

God, Jihoon thought, did these people have running showers too?

It wasn’t too long before the front door opened and a tall young man stepped through. 

“Hi, sorry, got caught up,” he said, “It’s Jihoon right? I’m Mingyu. Just give me a second to wash my hands and I’ll be with you.” Mingyu disappeared behind the door (after also taking off his thick jacket), confirming to Jihoon that it was a bathroom. With running water.

Jihoon watched him carefully as he came over. He didn’t trust any of this. He wouldn’t just be taken in, right? Were they cannibals or something?

Mingyu crouched down beside him and lifted up Jihoon’s shirt. He sucked air in through his teeth as he saw the wound.

“How old is this?”

“Four days.”

Mingyu nodded. “You’re lucky if it missed your organs.”

He got to work cleaning it, having to press around the wound to clear the cut of dried blood, dirt and t-shirt fluff. Jihoon screamed in agony as he did so and Mingyu continuously apologised.

“It’s definitely infected,” Mingyu sighed, “the skin’s red and swollen. Has it gotten more painful since?”

“A bit.” Jihoon was hesitant to talk but desperate for the pain to stop.

“Okay,” Mingyu finished wiping the cut clean and then stood up. “If it wasn’t infected I could stitch it up, but I can stick a dressing over it until it’s healed. And I’ll make you a makeshift antibiotic. You’ll be fine soon.”

“What’s in it?”

“Salt, vinegar and water. It tastes absolutely disgusting but you’ll live at the end of it, so.”

Once the dressing was on, Jihoon watched Mingyu compile the drink together in a glass. He stirred it carefully then handed it over. Jihoon took it uncertainly. He stared at the glass and then at Mingyu. 

Mingyu sighed. “It’s not poison. I want to help you.”

Jihoon said nothing but he put the drink down on the table. 

“Okay, fine,” Mingyu took the drink back and sipped some of it himself. He pulled a face at it, but otherwise swallowed it and put the drink back down. “It’s just gross. Perfectly safe.”

Jihoon huffed and sat up (with a wince). He took a sip himself now. It was vile. He gagged and spluttered at it whilst Mingyu watched amused.

“Pinch your nose and chug it.”

Jihoon did just that. Finally it was all down and he scowled at no one in particular, just the taste of it. Mingyu was staring at the boy’s bloody bandage on his hand. He had been more focused on the gun it held before.

“You’ll need to take that everyday for two weeks,” Mingyu said, “sorry about that. And I’ll take a sip before you do so you know it’s safe.”

“Okay.”

“Do you need me to look at your hand?”

Jihoon turned a little pale. “It’s fine.”

“Let me look, I insist-”

“It’s okay, honestly-”

“It might need stitching,” Mingyu came to the other side of the bed and took Jihoon’s arm. The boy kept uttering that it wasn’t necessary and he really didn’t need to, and honestly it’s fine, whilst Mingyu unraveled the bandages.

Mingyu stared blankly at his hand. Teeth shaped punctures were coated in dark, dry blood. Smudges of the blood were everywhere, too, from when Jihoon had wiped it away to see that there really was a bite on his hand or if he was just seeing things. The skin was pink, like a rash, but nothing else had happened. It looked more like a mild allergic reaction.

“It’s four days,” Jihoon said quietly.

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t understand either,” said the boy sharply. “Your parents studied the infected, right? Did you see any bites?”

Mingyu nodded.

“Did they look like that by the second day?”

Mingyu shook his head. “I just… I don’t understand. Everyone turns within two days, Jihoon, no longer. But the… the rash around it… I’ve never seen that before. Do you feel sick?”

“Only when my stomach puts me in pain.”

“Dizzy?” Mingyu began to speak quickly and sharply.

“Same answer.”

“Fever? Tingling in your limbs? Heart palpitations? Any skin lesions? Irritability? Has your vision decreased?”

Jihoon said no to everything. Mingyu was frowning.

“I’ve heard of immunity before. I just didn’t think it was true. It could just be delayed…”

Mingyu cleaned Jihoon’s hand, examining it carefully as he did so. Then he covered it in fresh bandages.

“Does anybody else know?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Okay. You’re staying here,” Mingyu said, “so I can keep an eye on you. In case I have to shoot you. We’ll tell Jeonghan it’s a precaution for your stomach. And you tell me about any new symptoms. Tell me straight up. No sugar coating. No hesitation. For the safety of this town, you have to tell me everything in regards to this bite. Got it?”

“Yeah. Got it.”

*Quarantine Zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONK  
> no idea what to say uhhhhhhhh yeah thanks for reading love u bye


	4. iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funfact this fic had a different name at first and its still that in my google docs drafts bc i cba to change it but also im too used to it now  
> anyway ive started sixth form so my writing might slow a bit but im literally halfway through ch17 so dont panic

Beomju was staring at his cousin with wide eyes, his arm covered in blood and teeth marks. He whispered “just do it” and with a shaky hand, Jihoon pulled the trigger.

The boy woke up with a start to voices chatting in the corner. One was Mingyu, and if he guessed correctly, the other was Wonwoo.

“You know, Minghao’s pissed. He never trusts strangers.”

“Is he aware that this one doesn’t even trust us either? I had to drink his medicine so he knew I wasn’t trying to kill him. I think he’s fine here.”

Jihoon opened his eyes then. He gazed lazily at the two sitting on the couch. To his surprise, they were snuggled against each other.

“I guess they’ve both been through some shit,” Wonwoo continued with a sigh.

“Hey,” Mingyu’s eyes locked with Jihoon’s, “he’s awake.”

Wonwoo waved at him. Jihoon didn’t respond. He just yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“What time is it?” He asked.

“There’s a clock just there,” Wonwoo smiled kindly.

“...I can’t tell the time.” 

“Oh? Well, it’s uh…” Wonwoo leaned forward to see over the fireplace, “it’s a quarter past twelve. You slept for two hours.”

“Okay.”

The three sat quietly for a while. Jihoon watched the clock ticking. He was about to ask where Seungcheol was when the guy came through the door. He was carrying something beneath his coat, protecting it from the still falling snow. He nodded a hello to Wonwoo and Mingyu before approaching Jihoon. He threw what was inside his coat on the end of Jihoon’s bed.

“Clean clothes. I think they should fit.”

Jihoon slowly and carefully sat up with a look of surprise. “Thanks, Cheol. Did you wash?”

Seungcheol beamed. “Don’t I look good?”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. Seungcheol certainly did look better without dirt spotting his skin, though.

“You can shower and change in the bathroom, Jihoon,” Mingyu piped up, “just through that door there.”

Jihoon took his time standing up. Seungcheol offered him a hand, but he refused. He finally made it to the bathroom (taking all of his things with him) and locked the door behind him. He lowered the toilet seat and sat his new clothes on top before beginning to undress. He swore when he remembered his wounds.

“Uh, Mingyu? Do I need to take the bandages off?”

“Oh shoot! Yeah, you do. I’ll redo it after. Your stomach’ dressings’ waterproof though.”

Jihoon carefully unravelled the bandages with the tips of his fingers of one hand, trying not to make them dirty. He assumed that a place like this would be big on not wasting medical supplies.

The boy turned on the water with his good hand. It ran clear and warm. Jihoon almost started to cry. He hopped in and let the water soak his skin, taking it all in. He took a deep breath. It felt amazing.

Back in the QZ, Jihoon washed once a week from a tap that ran dirty water. Clean water was obtained through rations and saved for drinking. Since then the best he’d managed to wash was jumping in a pond or river - if not the rain. This was the biggest luxury Jihoon had ever experienced. 

But even so, he felt vulnerable. He scrubbed himself clean quickly, but still enough to get rid of every speck of dirt. Water stung his eyes as he let it trickle down his face but he couldn’t care less. He lathered his hands in soap (!) and ran them through his hair. Jihoon let the water run over him for just a little longer, then hopped out and threw his clothes on before he’d even dried himself properly. 

The clothes did fit. Jihoon now donned black jeans, and a dark tee. It was too hot to put his new red plaid hoodie and black jacket over the top just yet. He half rewrapped his bandage and half held it by two ends between this thumb and his palm. Mingyu would have to finish it. It was difficult to wrap a bandage with one hand. When he’d bandaged it himself last time, it was loose and messy. Now that the bandage hid his biggest secret Jihoon preferred for it to be tight and secure.

He left the bathroom with his hand hidden beneath his clothes. Mingyu had moved to sit on Jihoon’s bed, meaning he could get to Jihoon quickly when he came out and lessen the chances of his bite being shown. 

“You clean up good, Hoon,” Seungcheol said, looking him up and down.

Mingyu took Jihoon’s hand and began to wrap it so it fit smugly. It had slipped a little at first, though.

“Ouch,” Seungcheol said, “dog bite, is it?”

Jihoon nodded. “Yeah. Brutal fucker he was. He’s probably given me a nasty scar.”

“A dog almost mauled my little brother’s arm off once,” Wonwoo mentioned, running his hands through his hair. “I’ve been scared of them ever since.”

“You have a brother?” Jihoon asked.

Wonwoo nodded. “Bohyuk. He works with the vegetables and such. With both arms, luckily.”

Mingyu finished up Jihoon’s hand and the boy climbed back into his bed. Mingyu went back to Wonwoo on the couch, who put his arm around him.

“Is Jihoon good to look around later?” Seungcheol asked Mingyu. 

Mingyu shook his head. “He needs rest, Cheol.”

“I’ll go out anyway,” Jihoon protested, keen to get to know his surroundings. “I’ll accept the consequences.”

Seungcheol nodded whilst Mingyu frowned. “The people are really nice, Hoon. And the food. I had a burger!”

“There’s bread?”

“Non-stale bread!”

“Holy shit,” Jihoon exclaimed.

Mingyu and Wonwoo smiled at them. Every now and then new people arrived and were amazed by everything, and they enjoyed watching these people. Sure, they weren’t the only town going like this, but they weren’t common enough for everyone to know about them.

Seungcheol and Jihoon set off an hour later. Jihoon’s hoodie was a little big, but he enjoyed the sweater paws since he didn’t have any gloves. He trundled along slowly but Seungcheol didn’t mind. It let them both take in everything around them.

“The stables are really good,” Seungcheol told him, “Heather seems happy.”

“Did she get food?”

“Yep.” 

Satisfied, Jihoon nodded. He wasn’t particularly a fan of horses, but she was a very convenient transportation method and he liked his transport to be working. But also he had known her long enough to become a little fond of her. He would just never admit it.

He hadn’t eaten, so Seungcheol was taking him where he had been earlier. It was on the other side of the village though, which meant that they had to keep having rest stops. Jihoon was grateful for his partner’s patience. He sat with him for as long as he needed before helping him to stand.

“I think my body got too used to resting,” he said. Seungcheol agreed.

“It’s alright. Take your time.”

Villagers walked past, a few looking at them as they did so. One or two asked if they were okay or if they needed water. Whilst Seungcheol thought they were sweet, Jihoon found their kindness startling.

“There’s a well to get water when you do need some, Hoon,” Seungcheol said.

“Cool.”

They got going again shortly after, followed by a few repeats of events until they finally made it. 

It was a pub that swarmed with life. Jihoon kept a cold face, but really he was in awe. People chatted at tables and laughed with friends at the bar. Little lanterns were dotted here and there on top of the ones hanging from the ceiling. Menus and sauces, as well as cups of cutlery, sat on every table. Waiters and waitresses slipped through here and there either with a small notepad or dishes of food. The bartender smiled and waved at Seungcheol.

“That’s Jun,” he explained, “I met him when I was here earlier.”

Seungcheol pulled a chair out for Jihoon and the boy sat down for the millionth time.

“Do you want a burger?” He asked. “They do beef or chicken.”

“Beef,” Jihoon said quickly, “I’ve never had it before.”

Seungcheol went to the bar to order. Jihoon saw that he paid in bullets. He was about to complain but then he realised it wasn’t a bullet for either of his guns, so it didn’t matter. They were in the market anyway. He wondered if he would stay long enough for it to feel normal.

“Do you pay for everything by trade?” Jihoon asked as Seungcheol sat down. He put down two glasses of water for them. Jihoon waited for Seungcheol to have some before sipping it himself.

Seungcheol nodded. “Bullets are some of the best apparently. It goes towards patrol. And I’ve picked loads up the last few months.”

“So being unable to shoot has finally come in handy.”

“It’s how I got your clothes,” he smiled, “and your food.”

“Yeah. I appreciate it. Thanks.”

Cleaned up, Seungcheol didn’t look so bad. He was quite cute, actually. His big dark eyes were full of curiosity and they were taking in everything in the room. He had plump ruby lips that were constantly positioned in a slight pout if not a little ajar. Thick black hair messily slopped across his forehead, but he pulled it off well. A scar ran across his cheek. Jihoon hadn’t realised how prominently it was when it lay beneath blood and dirt.

“How’d you do this?” Jihoon asked gently, mimicking the scar across his own face with his finger. 

“I messed with the wrong guy.”

“Oh?” The boy raised his eyebrows with a smirk, “I assumed you rolled onto your knife.”

“Hey!” Seungcheol frowned, “I’m not that stupid. Nah, it was just a fight with someone. Trespassing and all that.”

Jihoon had been there many times. That’s why you wanted a gun - shoot the ones on patrol before they could see you, then you never had to get too close. Seungcheol was lucky that he’d never been shot. He must be a good runner, Jihoon thought. Although he had more questions for him, he didn’t say anything else. The more he asked the more Seungcheol would ask back.

The food was placed on the table maybe twenty minutes later by a waitress who laughed at Jihoon’s face. 

“Are you new?”

Jihoon said yes as he stared at the plate in awe. He had never had so much in one meal before - there was even more in the burger than he’d ever had in one meal. It had lettuce, cheese, tomato and bacon on top of the beef. Chips were dished on the side with a dollop of salad. 

“I’m gonna throw up after this,” said Jihoon, “and it’s gonna be worth it.”

Jihoon dug in and Seungcheol watched fondly. After the antibiotic drink of that morning, this was definitely what Jihoon needed. He ate messily without worrying that anyone around him was judging him. Seungcheol laughed, though.

“You need to slow down,” he said, “or you’ll feel awful later.”

Jihoon managed the burger and half of the chips until he had to stop. He leaned back in his chair holding his stomach. Seungcheol helped himself to a few of Jihoon’s chips. He’d left it at the burger himself and asked for a takeaway of the chips. They were left in the room Chan had taken him to - it was a spare in the boy’s own house. He hoped they had a room for Jihoon, although something told him the boy would want to leave soon. Seungcheol never liked to stick around either, but he had a good feeling about this town.

“Are you ready to go?” Seungcheol asked. Jihoon mumbled a yes and the two stood up. 

“Can we see Heather?”

“Can you make it?”

“Yeah.”

The two got going. Seungcheol admitted to not really remembering where the stables were exactly, but there were signposts here and there so neither were too worried.

It wasn’t too far off, but Jihoon was holding onto the stable doors as they walked through. His stomach ached from both his wound and his meal. He focused on patting the odd horse. The village had quite the collection. Heather stood at the end. Jihoon smiled at her.

“Hey, girl,” he cooed. “Hey. You okay? Are you being treated well? I’m gonna put a little bit of trust into Seungcheol to tell me how you are. Just a little bit of trust. Just for you, girl.”

He stayed with her for a few minutes, stroking her mane and feeding her a carrot. Seungcheol noticed he was leaning heavily on the stable door. Any help was, of course, denied, so he left the boy to it.

Once Jihoon was satisfied they began their way back. The boy was stumbling again now and the colour was draining from his face, but he continued to refuse any offered help. He struggled through even though his legs were becoming jelly.

No sooner than they were through the door of the health centre did poor Jihoon cave. Seungcheol caught him by his armpits as he crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll. 

“I don’t need your help,” Jihoon mumbled.

“Okay,” Seungcheol said, lifting him up and laying him down on his bed. 

Jihoon didn’t thank him. He didn’t say anything. Instead he snuggled beneath his sheets and closed his eyes only for a minute. When he opened them again, Seungcheol was looking through his backpack. Finally he pulled out a book and placed it on Jihoon's bed.

“To keep you amused whilst you're healing,” Seungcheol said. Jihoon thanked him now. 

The winter sun had begun to set. Through the frosty window Jihoon could see streaks of red and yellow painting the sky. It was pretty. He had always loved sunsets.

His mother was an artist. Well, it was her hobby, anyway. Jihoon’s earliest memory was watching her create a masterpiece upon what was once a blank canvas. She painted landscapes, the views from windows, sunsets like the one today. Jihoon’s bedroom had been decorated with her paintings of dogs and rabbits. His copycat doodles were blu-tacked beneath them. Jihoon’s old bedroom was perhaps the best memory he had of pre-outbreak life. He had only been three when it started. 

Her face was clear in his mind as he stared out of the window now. He missed her sometimes. When she was around, she got on Jihoon’s nerves with how overprotective she always was. He was barely allowed outside. Now as an adult, he realised the world really was as dangerous as she claimed for it to be. It was worse. His little stubborn self hadn’t seen anything yet. Not even a year after she died, Jihoon had become a ruthless killer, afraid of everything and everyone. It was easier to kill those who scared him than risk what they might do. And for a long time, he thought of her every night. What would she think of her sweet little boy now?

“You okay?” Seungcheol asked.

“Huh?” Jihoon snapped out of it, “oh. yeah.”

“You looked sad.”

“I said I’m fine.”

Seungcheol stared at him for a moment. “Okay, well… tell me if you’re not.”

He watched over Jihoon for a little while longer. The boy intrigued him. He was unreadable; completely unlike anyone else Seungcheol had ever met. He hoped that one day Jihoon would open up to him and tell him stories of his past. The boy always looked to be deep in thought.

Seungcheol was always interested in those with experience. It was why he left his QZ. Life was boring and repetitive. He heard all these wicked stories of Fireflies and similar organisations. He had gone to a military day school, training to work for the area he had always known since he was four. And he hated the idea of that. So he ran away through a secret passage without so much as a note.

“I’ll leave you be,” Seungcheol said after a while. “Rest well. If you feel up to it, we can look around tomorrow, yeah?”

Jihoon nodded. “Sounds good. See you later.”

He started the book Seungcheol had left behind. It was The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. Jihoon took his time with it, knowing he’d be out of activities for a while. He wanted to drag this one out until he was up and running. 

His stomach frustrated him. He could usually handle pain. Maybe it was how bad it had become mixed with the sting of the cold that made him so weak, barely able to walk for longer than a few minutes. He definitely felt better in the warm room now; even if the pain did linger.

It was nice here, really. Jihoon almost liked it.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw when i said chips i mean fries im english ok thanks love u bye


	5. iv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is 3000 words of nothing im so sorry????? enjoy ig

“Soonyoung’s back,” Jeonghan entered the centre with a backpack slung over one shoulder. He put it down on the bed beside Jihoon. “And he got a lot.”

“He always does,” Mingyu said, coming over to see the supposed goods for himself.

“It’s because he’s stupid,” laughed Jeonghan, “he takes the risks that we’re all too sane to take.”

Jihoon watched with curiosity as Mingyu unloaded the bag. It was full of medical supplies. Bandages, dressing, pills, tape; all sorts.

Mingyu sighed. “Still no antibiotics. God, we could do with some. The drinks are disgusting.”

Jeonghan glanced at Jihoon and laughed. “Did you have to take a sip for him today too?” 

“I need him to take it and I have to watch him take it so I know he’s not poured it out and it’s the only way I think he will actually take it.” 

“I like you,” Jeonghan said to Jihoon with a smile, “you’re funny.”

Jihoon nodded in return. 

The pair began packing things away into the cabinet. It was neatly organised, each section of a shelf dedicated to different things. Jeonghan threw things in and Mingyu went back to sort them with a picky manner. The rolls of bandages stood neatly together and the new pill packets piled up a previously empty section. Mingyu took one back and handed it to Jihoon.

“Painkillers.”

Jihoon examined the packet. The word ‘Ibuprofen’ was dotted about. None of the pills had been popped yet. He took two now and put the others to the side. He also chugged the antibiotic concoction, which Jihoon had been procrastinating for an hour now. He had just got it down when Mingyu gasped.

“Soonyoung _did _get antibiotics!”__

__Jihoon scowled. The boys laughed at him and Mingyu handed over the jar with the order to take them from tomorrow._ _

__“Have you had breakfast, Jihoon? I can bring you some.” Jeonghan asked._ _

__Jihoon shook his head and Mingyu looked over at him._ _

__“I don’t think he’d eat anything we give him.”_ _

__“Seungcheol told me he ate yesterday, at the inn.”_ _

__“Yeah, where Seungcheol had eaten before.”_ _

__Jeonghan laughed again. He looked at Jihoon with glee. “You’re a hoot, Hoon. Quite the character.”_ _

__“I think he needs psychiatric help.”_ _

__Jihoon scowled. What did Mingyu know? He didn’t know the boy at all._ _

__Jihoon sat back in a huff, pulling his book out again and dived in headfirst. He blocked out the two working around him. The book was pretty good, although there was an occasional line that was difficult to read due to smudges of dirt or water damage. He wondered how long it had been in Seungcheol’s possession._ _

__Once Jeonghan had finally left, Jihoon put his book down and Mingyu came over with some bandages to nurse Jihoon’s hand. He was very gentle, and examined it carefully._ _

__“The rash’s getting worse,” he pointed out, “I’m sure it’s a little more red. Do you feel any different?”_ _

__“Still fine,” said Jihoon, “and it’s getting less sore.”_ _

__Mingyu nodded, and told him it’s healing. This was, of course, very weird of a bite to do. Usually the wound didn’t heal until long into the runner phase. Jihoon wondered if his turn was simply delayed. His hand was wrapped again and Mingyu questioned him on his stomach. Jihoon just said it felt the same._ _

__“You’ll probably notice some improvement soon,” Mingyu guessed, “but you need to eat. Would you feel better if Seungcheol brought the food?”_ _

__Jihoon suddenly realised that they all thought he and Seungcheol were close. There was no issue with that; he just hadn’t considered that assumption before. It was kind of funny._ _

__“I’m just not hungry,” he said._ _

__Mingyu replaced the dressing on Jihoon’s stomach and then they were done for the day._ _

__“I noticed that you slept with your gun in your hand,” the doctor said with a sigh. “I hope you had the safety on.”_ _

__Jihoon didn’t say anything. He just watched Mingyu throw his jacket over his shoulders._ _

__“I’ll check on you later,” he said with a smile. Jihoon nodded in response. He was already bored._ _

__Jihoon’s entire life was spent fighting infected and killing those who crossed him. He walked miles everyday, ran a few more, and hardly rested. Now, for five days, he had just lay down and done nothing. He was beginning to feel restless._ _

__Jihoon propped himself up again with a sharp breath through his teeth. He dragged his legs out of his bed and pretended it didn’t hurt to lean down and shove his feet into his shoes. He skipped the laces. Once his backpack was over his shoulders, Jihoon made his way out._ _

__He was still stumbling, but he didn’t mind taking his time. It was nice to take everything in around him and assess where exactly he was. It was a firm belief of his that it was vital to know your surroundings._ _

__Jihoon turned left rather than straight ahead, hoping to find something new. He admired the electricity poles dotted about - it had been a while since he’d seen any intact and not collapsed on the ground._ _

__To his surprise, a daycare was a few buildings down from the health centre. How many kids were here? People felt safe to raise a family? Or, more likely to Jihoon, many accidents had occurred. He had known a few women get knocked up only to attempt an abortion. Most of the poor girls had died in the process._ _

__A mother was collecting her toddler now, holding her hand as she hopped down the steps, laughing as she did so.The little girl beamed and tossed her wild curls out of her face The mother caught Jihoon watching and smiled politely. Jihoon only nodded his hello._ _

__Past the daycare was a small school. It almost reminded him of a makeshift classroom he had seen once whilst sneaking through sewers. It was like an underground cover, and still had books and chalks thrown across the floor with a few toys scattered here and there. Jihoon had found the starved corpses nearby. He sighed at the memory and kept going._ _

__Jihoon strolled along for a while. He saw another inn - no, more like a cafe - and opened up his backpack for anything he could trade for food._ _

__“Hi!”_ _

__Jihoon looked up. A man he didn’t know was stood smiling._ _

__“Are you Jihoon?” He asked, “the one who got stabbed, right? Gossip travels fast. We never have anyone new. Also you’re holding your stomach, so it’s kind of obvious that that’s you.”_ _

__Jihoon moved his arm. “Who are you?”_ _

__Jihoon’s scowl didn’t phase him. “Joshua. Jeonghan’s boyfriend.”_ _

__“Okay.” He was still a little confused as to why he was talking to him._ _

__“Are you hungry?” He asked, looking between Jihoon and the cafe. “Shall we eat together? Just so you get to know more people.”_ _

__“You talk a lot.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Joshua laughed, “come on. I’ll pay.”_ _

__Jihoon was starving with nothing better to do so he followed him into the cafe (with a lot of reluctance). They took a seat and Joshua handed him a menu from the metal basket in the middle of the table._ _

__Jihoon scanned through the options. They were surprisingly pre-outbreak, like things he’d seen passing through ruined diners. A variety of sandwiches, salads and soups were available with juices and milkshakes available for drink options. Jihoon settled on a BLT sandwich, without any refreshment. It was much easier to spike a drink than a sandwich._ _

__A young looking girl came over to take her order. Joshua beamed widely at her._ _

__“Yeojin! You’re working now?”_ _

__Yeojin nodded happily. “It’s my first day. What can I get you?”_ _

__The two placed their orders and waited. Jihoon was eyeing Joshua up and down. As always, his gun was in his hand. When their food arrived he kept it close on the table. Joshua raised his eyebrows and mumbled something about how Jeonghan wasn’t kidding._ _

__“What was that?” Jihoon snapped._ _

__Joshua widened his eyes innocently. “Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”_ _

__Jihoon glared before turning to his food. He picked it apart first. Jeonghan’s boyfriend watched with amusement._ _

__“In the nicest way possible,” Joshua said, “no one cares enough about you to poison you.”_ _

__“But they care enough about people they don’t know,” Jihoon argued._ _

__The guy shrugged. “Well… whatever makes you feel better. Eat up.”_ _

__Jihoon ate slowly; partially because yesterday he had ended up feeling sick and bloated until the late evening. Plus he didn’t really want a repeat considering he had almost believed he was finally turning. But no. Nothing._ _

__“You know,” Joshua piped up again, “I’d assumed Mingyu wasn’t letting you out. Don’t you need rest?”_ _

__“My stomach’s injured, not my legs,” Jihoon said, “I’ll get about if I can. I don’t care.”_ _

__“You should. You’ll heal quicker. Also, what-”_ _

__Jihoon cut him off. “I’m here for food, not twenty questions.”_ _

__“Okay, okay. Sorry.”_ _

__The town was full to the brim of luxuries. Jihoon had never even had bacon before, let alone thrown in with lettuce and tomatoes in bread that didn’t nearly break your jaw to bite into._ _

__“How old is this place?” Jihoon asked, “and how is it so… normal?”_ _

__Joshua smiled, almost out of pride. “We built it about… fifteen years ago? By we I mean the people. I was nine at the time. It began as just a hydroelectric power plant, and slowly we figured out how to get the electricity to actually work and we did a lot of trespassing for equipment. Then we just built around it to create the best normality we could. You know we have gaming equipment? And TVs and films? There’s a film every Friday in the town hall by the way. You should go.”_ _

__Jihoon couldn’t help but stare at him in awe._ _

__“Dude… the QZs had some electricity but it was shit. Cables got damaged quick and we relied on gas to power these motor things. They were only powerful enough to light up a room.”_ _

__The look of pride in Joshua’s face only grew._ _

__Jihoon finished off his food. Joshua offered to show him around, but Jihoon said no. Instead, Joshua dropped him off at the health centre._ _

__“I’ve got a CD player at my lodge,” Joshua said, “but I’ll bring it over with a few albums when the snow stops. Might help with the boredom of resting.”_ _

__Jihoon nodded and thanked him. He opened the door to see Seungcheol talking to Mingyu. They looked over to him and smiled. Jihoon shut the door and came over to his bed. He clutched his stomach._ _

__“I was worried about you!” Mingyu exclaimed with a hint of annoyance._ _

__“Your shoes are soaking,” Seungcheol said, “you need some boots.”_ _

__Jihoon shrugged. “I was grabbing lunch, Gyu. And Seungcheol, Converse are comfier.”_ _

__“You're going to die of hypothermia.”_ _

__“Please not on my watch,” Mingyu groaned._ _

__Jihoon kicked off his shoes and his wet socks and snuggled beneath his blanket to warm up. It wasn’t long before Seungcheol climbed over to sit cross legged on the end._ _

__“Chan said you can come over to watch some films tonight,” he smiled. “He has a lot. He won’t be there, though. He’s got patrol.”_ _

__“Okay,” Jihoon said. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He fiddled with his blanket for several minutes._ _

__“Are you starting work soon?” Mingyu piped up, turning to Seungcheol._ _

__“Yeah, I’m going to the farms tomorrow morning,” Seungcheol replied, “and I have some shooting training in the afternoon so I can go on patrol.”_ _

__Mingyu nodded his head. “You’ll need to start work when you’ve completely recovered, Hoon. It’s how you earn your stay. We have no bills.”_ _

__Jihoon said okay, but he hadn’t intended on staying. But he now thought maybe he should work for the same time as his recovery period - as a way of returning their help._ _

__“Is there anything I can do now?”_ _

__Mingyu laughed. “What, are you bored? Can you sew? Then I’ll find you some patterns and you can start making clothes.”_ _

__The boy agreed to that. Joshua’s music, Seungcheol’s book and sewing tasks would be a nice way to fill the day without gallivanting. He liked sewing for how therapeutic it was. And he adored music - his dad had taught him the guitar. Jihoon purposely seeked music stores in cities for the hope of an old guitar remaining, and he always wished he could bring one with him._ _

__Joshua came by soon after. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and he held something covered by a waterproof coat._ _

__“Music for Jihoon,” he explained to Mingyu. “I won’t miss it. Jeonghan’s got one and I’ve been put on more patrols anyway.”_ _

__“Well, it was originally here,” Mingyu laughed._ _

__Joshua playfully rolled his eyes as he angled it on Jihoon’s bedside table (squashed beside his glass and the lamp) and plugged it in. From his backpack, Joshua pulled out a small collection of albums. He had chosen a variety since he had no idea what Jihoon was into. It ranged from ABBA to Fall Out Boy to Harry Styles, and then there were two soundtrack albums to a film called ‘Guardians Of The Galaxy’, which Joshua explained was just music from the 70s and 80s._ _

__“Do you have the film?” Seungcheol asked._ _

__“Yeah, why?”_ _

__“Can we borrow that tonight?”_ _

__Joshua smiled and nodded, promising to bring it over soon. Jihoon flicked through the albums before deciding on whoever ABBA were. It was a three disc greatest hits album, so unfolding the case was a little baffling for him. He got there in the end and selected the first disc. The sudden piano slide of Dancing Queen made him jump._ _

__“You’re cute, Hoon,” Seungcheol laughed._ _

__“Shut up.”_ _

__Joshua left to grab the DVD. Jihoon kicked Seungcheol until he hopped off, then he lowered the music’s volume and lay down for a nap._ _

__Seungcheol watched with a soft smile as the boy cuddled the blanket to his chest and closed his eyes. His features softened from his permanent scowl and for once, he looked peaceful. Pretty. Dreaming._ _

__Seungcheol didn’t have anything to do, so he kept Mingyu company._ _

__“Do you sit here all day?” He asked awkwardly._ _

__“If someone’s here,” chuckled Mingyu, “otherwise I’m in the gardens or patrol.”_ _

__“Is the patrol guarding the gates?”_ _

__“No, that’s just… guarding the gates.”_ _

__Turns out patrol was going to lookouts where you checked for infected or trespassers; killing the infected and radioing ahead about trespassers. Most people shot them on sight, but the people here had (mostly) agreed in a vote to be kinder. It wasn’t often that they took in the injured like Jihoon, but it wasn’t unheard of. Apparently there were quite a few who lived here after receiving treatment, but some had left afterwards. Usually they let trespassers stock up on anything they needed (within reason) and they went off on their way._ _

__“You take trespassers in,” Seungcheol said, “and I got my face sliced open for it.”_ _

__“And that’s not fair,” Mingyu said with a small smile, “we’re all just doing what we have to to survive.”_ _

__Seungcheol nodded. No one was good in this world. Not anymore. He wondered what secrets Jihoon held, and hoped they would grow close enough to find out._ _

__Jihoon slept for a long time. Seungcheol had brought him some takeaway dinner by the time he woke up. He had had to buy a bit more than Jihoon needed for himself and a bit less than Seungcheol wanted himself so that they could share the same meal, showing Jihoon that it was safe. God, Seungcheol wanted to know where this fear originated. Had he poisoned others or had he been poisoned himself? Or was it just paranoia?_ _

__Once dinner was down, the pair walked down to Seungcheol’s lodge. It wasn’t far away. His place, shared with whoever Chan was, was three rooms with one being a bathroom. Chan had the separate bedroom whereas Seungcheol took the main room, which contained a small kitchen and the living room. A TV sat on the wall opposite a plain couch. The couch folded out to become a bed. A DVD player and a PlayStation sat on a shelf below the TV, the controllers thrown on the rug. It was surprisingly cosy._ _

__Seungcheol pulled the bed out and set up the pillows and blankets so that Jihoon could get comfortable. The boy didn’t think the effort was necessary - he could sit on a couch - but he appreciated it anyway._ _

__Jihoon settled down as Seungcheol got the film going. He was more excited than he cared to admit. This truly was the height of luxury._ _

__To add to the atmosphere, Seungcheol drew the curtains and flicked off the lights so only the lamps lit up the room. Then he got into bed beside Jihoon (each on the very edge of the mattress) and glued his eyes to the screen._ _

__The film started and nothing could’ve distracted Jihoon from the events on the screen. He didn’t even smile but Seungcheol noticed the slight sparkle in his usually dull eyes. He bit his thumb during any conflict scenes and tilted his head when he was confused. Humorous scenes earned only a slight curve of the lips._ _

__The credits were rolling when the front door opened and wind slammed it shut. A young man emerged with snow covered shoulders and hair._ _

__“Jihoon, this is Chan,” Seungcheol introduced the two, “Chan, this is Jihoon.”_ _

__Chan waved._ _

__“A storm’s picking up,” he warned them, “so I wouldn’t recommend taking Jihoon back anytime soon.”_ _

__“Can he stay here?”_ _

__“Yeah, ‘course. Where else?”_ _

__Chan cooked up some pasta for their late dinner. Seungcheol and Jihoon weren’t used to much food so he only made two servings, allowing Seungcheol and Jihoon to share a plate and eat however much they wanted. Seungcheol had the majority of it._ _

__It wasn’t too late but the two were tired. Chan retreated to his room to let them rest. He slept early too - he woke up at five to work from seven till five between the farm and stables, occasionally patrol, although more often than not his hours were overrun._ _

__Seungcheol went to turn off the lamp, then looked over at Jihoon. He watched the boy settle down beneath the blankets and clutch his gun close. He raised his eyebrows._ _

__“Sleep well, Jihoon.”_ _

__“Yeah. You too.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was so boring to proof thats why its shit my apologies love u bye


	6. v

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this didnt need much proofing so it must be shit sorry

Jihoon left Seungcheol’s lodge before Seungcheol even woke up. He’d woken up early from a nightmare re-living Beomju’s death. Again. 

The sun had only just risen and snow was still falling fast. Jihoon swore the amount of snow on the ground had doubled overnight. He covered his hands in his hoodie’s sleeves, clutching his jacket across his chest. He liked to think his backpack was giving him some extra warmth somehow. The poor boy was shaking.

Jihoon found the health centre and almost fell through the door. In the almost blizzard, just a few minutes outside was enough to make you numb. He cursed seeing that the fire was out. 

The boy shook his wet shoes off. He wished he had some dry socks, but he hadn’t even put them on yesterday and they were still soaked anyway. Jihoon brushed the snow from his shoulders, pulled his hood up, and huddled beneath his thankfully thick blanket. Hopefully Mingyu showed up before he died of hypothermia. For the meantime Jihoon blew shakey breathes into his hands and rubbed them together. 

It wasn’t too long before Mingyu came in. He was a little out of breath like he had been running. The snow on his knees and hands earned an amused look from Jihoon.

“I had to run if I was going to check your bite today,” he said with a small laugh. “Also, you have got to start staying in bed. You look terrible. No turning symptoms, right?”

Jihoon shook his head.

“I don’t feel any different,” he told him, “other than from being in the cold. And my hand’s still sore. My stomach’s getting better though.”

Mingyu removed Jihoon’s bandages and looked at the bite. He cleaned and dried it carefully.

“We’ll leave it to breathe for a bit,” he said. “There shouldn’t be anyone coming in soon. The storm’s getting worse again.”

Jihoon looked at both sides of his hand. “Do you think it passes as a dog bite?”

“Erm… some would take it as that. Others might shoot you. Don’t trust anyone with it, okay?”

Jihoon followed that rule anyway. He only had an ounce of trust in Mingyu because he hadn’t shot him right away. 

At long last, the doctor got the fire going again. Jihoon’s trembling finally stopped and he took off his hoodie. Next, the dressing on his stomach was replaced and Jihoon took today’s antibiotic. He didn’t miss the drink.

Suddenly Jeonghan and Joshua came through the door, each covered in frozen dust.

“Shelter,” Jeonghan said, watching Jihoon as he quickly covered one hand over the other. “You alright?”

“It’s itchy,” he replied. 

“It means it’s healing,” Mingyu piped up, “just don’t scratch. I’ll wrap it back up.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. It was itchy. He would worry it was due to turning, but his stomach felt the same. He massaged the wound with his thumb instead of scratching, then hissed at the pain of it. 

Jeonghan and Joshua flopped on the couch in each other’s arms whilst Mingyu wrapped up Jihoon’s hand (swiftly at first, then slowing down when the teeth marks were covered). Jihoon watched the couple behind him with interest. How could anyone feel enough security to fall in love? Weren’t they terrified of losing each other?

The howl of the wind outside calmed down sooner than they expected, which was nice. Jihoon had been covering it with the Guardians Of The Galaxy soundtrack. Hooked On A Feeling had scared him at first with the weird chanting at the start, causing the others to laugh at him.

Jihoon didn’t go too far in the next few days. He didn’t turn either. Seungcheol popped by at lunch with food for them both, and he ate off of Jihoon’s plate too. Jihoon didn’t mind. He never finished it anyway. Whilst Seungcheol worked away at the farms and learnt how to shoot a gun, Jihoon was given materials and sewing patterns and stitched away. He patched together ripped jackets, made several t-shirts, learnt to knit from Mingyu and made a very clumsy scarf. All blame was placed on the pain of his bitten hand. 

Jihoon woke up one morning with Seungcheol leaning over his bed and shaking him gently. He grinned when he opened his eyes.

“Merry Christmas!” He exclaimed. “I got you something.” 

In his hand Seungcheol placed a bizarre orange ball. Jihoon stared at it.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked.

“It’s a satsuma,” replied Seungcheol. “A tiny orange. I don’t know, it’s a Christmas tradition apparently. I got you this too.”

He leaned down and grabbed something from the floor, placing the gift on the bed. It was a pair of sturdy black boots. 

“Hopefully they fit,” he scratched the back of his head, “I checked the size on your Converse but it was kind of rubbed off.”

Jihoon should’ve been grateful, and he was, but mostly he just felt guilty.

“I didn’t get you anything,” he said, “I can’t accept these- what the hell did you trade for them? The laces aren’t even frayed, Seungcheol…”

The boy laughed. “I didn’t expect anything. You need these.” 

Jihoon took them in awe. They almost seemed new. At the very least they had never been worn and had recently been upcycled. 

“I’ll make it up to you, Cheol,” Jihoon promised, “thank you.” 

Jihoon received clothes from Mingyu too, as well as Wonwoo and Jeonghan. The three had decided that Jihoon was in desperate need of them so now he had a second jacket, new hoodies and socks as well as a new pair of jeans. He was surprised by Seokmin bringing him two new sweaters as well. Judging by Seungcheol’s fresh outfit, everyone who had met the ‘desperate newbies’ had teamed up to help them out.

“I barely even know Seokmin,” Jihoon commented when the guy had left. Wonwoo laughed.

“He’s just too nice,” he said, “it’ll get him killed one day.”

Mingyu also gave Jihoon a black cover for his hand when the bite had healed, like a glove without anything to cover the fingers. Jihoon was especially grateful for this. He had been a little worried about having the scar out in the open, drawing attention and raising questions. The rash around it was now looking like little bubbles and definitely seemed like some form of infection. It baffled Mingyu. Bite marks didn’t look like that even on the turned victims.

“There’s a Christmas party tonight,” Mingyu told him, “at the town hall. There’s a big lunch too, if you think you can make it to both.”

Seungcheol was buzzing. The boy couldn’t really be bothered, but his friend was so excited and desperate for Jihoon to come that he agreed.

Jihoon dressed up in a brand new outfit and his boots. He stomped about a little bit like a toddler before confirming to Seungcheol that they did fit. He pulled up his hood, stuffed his hands in the pockets of his khaki jacket and followed the little huddle to the town hall. Mingyu and Wonwoo swung their hands together in front of them. 

“They’re cute,” Seungcheol smiled. Jihoon was scowling. “Don’t you ever want someone to hold?”

“Caring for people is a burden,” Jihoon said. “They’ll just die and you’ll blame yourself and it’ll hurt.”

Seungcheol was quiet for a moment. “Okay then.” 

The town hall was far bigger than Jihoon expected, and it was swarming with people. It wasn’t everyone in the town, but still a lot of them. Their chatter resulted in a constant buzz. Tables were dotted about of various sizes with various numbers of chairs. The four sat down at a table of six, awaiting Jeonghan and Joshua’s arrival. 

Mingyu pointed people out, introducing them to Jihoon. Seokmin noticed and waved cheerfully. Jihoon just nodded back. The guy grinned twice as big as before anyway.

“What’s he so happy for?” Jihoon asked. 

Wonwoo snorted. “He just loves everyone and everything. Except the infected. He’s scared shitless. He’s not allowed on the patrols. Although he went on one once.”

“Yeah, and he panicked and shot himself in the foot,” Mingyu added.

Jeonghan and Joshua finally arrived, taking the last seats on the rounded table next to each other. They exchanged Christmas greetings cheerfully.

Lunch was served soon after as a buffet. Rather than traditional turkey there was chicken and even some beef. Plenty of vegetables sat in bowls beside roast potatoes, parsnips, Yorkshire puddings and jugs of hot gravy. Jihoon had no idea where to start. He copied Mingyu, adding whatever he added to his plate onto his own. Pouring gravy into the Yorkshire puddings baffled him, but he did it anyway. 

“Do you know what any of this food is?” Jihoon asked Seungcheol.

“Not a clue,” he answered, “but it smells good.”

Jihoon agreed and they sat back down to dig in. The two ate fast. Jeonghan watched, a little concerned. He warned them that they’d end up with indigestion but they took no notice. There was so much to get through and so much to try. It definitely helped Jihoon that everyone was taking food from the same dishes he did, so no fear held him back. 

The meal wasn’t even the end of it. Dessert followed. Jihoon went for scoops of vanilla ice cream - he remembered loving it pre-outbreak. He never thought he would get another chance of having it. It was so much better than he remembered. He savoured every mouthful. 

Jihoon threw up an hour later, thankfully back at the health centre. Seungcheol wasn’t feeling good either. Each was nowhere near used to that much food at once. The guys found the two quite funny whilst Seungcheol whined that they could’ve stopped them. Overhearing from the bathroom, Jihoon couldn’t help but agree.

The party was more eventful. The two felt better in time and they walked back down to the hall, although Jihoon’s stab wound was acting up a bit now and he held his hand over it protectively.

To start with, Jihoon stood a little way away from the crowd. He felt like a fish out of the water. Seungcheol had found himself dancing with Seokmin, and they were who Jihoon watched. He couldn’t help but wonder how Seungcheol felt so comfortable whilst Jihoon suspiciously eyed everyone who came close, holding the gun in his pocket. It never occurred to him that he wasn’t creating a great impression of himself.

After several songs and enough dancing to knock the breath out of him, Seungcheol walked over to stand with Jihoon. He held a glass bottle in his hand.

“What’s that?” Asked Jihoon.

Seungcheol shrugged. “Beer?”

“They have alcohol?”

“At this point, what don’t they have?” Seungcheol said with a laugh. “Do you want some?”

The bottle was passed over and Jihoon stared at it with a quizzical expression. With another glance at his friend, Jihoon took a swig. It tasted weird. He couldn’t decide whether or not he liked it. They continued to pass between each other anyway, Once it was finished, they went back to the drinks table for one more each. 

They didn’t let themselves get drunk. No, Jihoon didn’t. Seungcheol did. Jihoon watched with raised eyebrows as he chugged drink after drink, growing bubblier and bubblier and laughing louder and louder. It was kind of cute, but Jihoon refused to smile at him.

An upbeat Christmas song came on and Seungcheol grabbed Jihoon’s hand. 

“We have to dance,” he grinned. 

“Cheol, no-”

“Come onnn,” Seungcheol whined. He pulled Jihoon across the room and through the crowd dancing in the middle. 

Seungcheol took both of his hands and pulled them backwards and forth to force Jihoon to dance. The only look he got was exasperation, but the mildly amused type. He put up with Seungcheol’s drunk antics. He spun around when he prompted him to do so, and half heartedly spun into Seungcheol’s arms and away to arm’s length again. It was putting his stomach in pain but somehow he was more focused on how happy it made Seungcheol to dance with him. 

Finally Jihoon opted out. The pain was getting bad and he was desperate to sit down, so he ignored Seungcheol’s pouts and whines and told him to dance with someone else. As he pulled a chair out Jihoon saw Seungcheol take Chan’s hands, but he didn’t smile as big nor did he pull him as close. Jihoon refused to think anything of that.

He had no idea what time it was when Wonwoo strolled over, but he guessed it was late since the kids had vanished and there were far less people. 

“Ready to go?” He asked. Jihoon nodded and awkwardly followed him around as he rounded up everyone else. 

Jeonghan and Joshua were fairly drunk too. They sang in the streets as they stumbled through the snow, clinging onto each other. A small part of Jihoon wanted that. Someone to hold onto. Someone to laugh with. Dancing with Seungcheol seemed to have triggered that. He watched the couple before him almost longingly. 

If you lived in a protected town like this, how dangerous was it to grow close to someone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so tired thank u love u bye


	7. vi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bone ape the teeth

A few nights after Christmas, Jihoon was snuggled up with a new book. It had been given to him the day before by Joshua as a late gift. This was The Hunger Games, and Jihoon was already halfway through. He had picked it up to settle down before sleep when he was disrupted by a loud banging on the door.

Mingyu jogged to answer it. He opened the door to a panic stricken Jeonghan holding Joshua in his arms. Both boys were as white as the falling snow.

“Trespassers shot him,” he choked out.

He lay his lover down on the nearest bed. Joshua was breathing heavily through tears. A chunk was missing from his leg, like an animal had taken a generous bite out of it. Jihoon looked away. He knew exactly what could’ve done that, and he had brought this fate upon several enemies before. He never liked to think about how the receiving end had gone.

“I’ll have to amputate it,” Mingyu said quietly.

Joshua sobbed. He clung tightly to Jeonghan’s hand. 

“It’s okay,” his boyfriend coaxed, “it’s okay. You’ll be okay. I promise. Shua? Hey, look at me, it’s alright…”

Mingyu tied a tourniquet around the thigh to stop the bleeding and went to grab some scissors to quickly get him out of his jeans. Just as he took hold of the blades, he was startled by the abrupt halt of Joshua’s cries of pain. There was only a sudden, deafening silence.

“Joshua?” Jeonghan said desperately. He shook the boy’s arm. “Shua?”

“Oh, god,” Mingyu breathed. He sat down weakly.

Jihoon finally turned his head. All he could focus on was Joshua staring at the ceiling, his face blank and his eyes dull. It was yet another haunting picture newly ingrained in Jihoon’s mind.

Jeonghan screamed out Joshua’s name. He held him close and just cried. He begged and pleaded for the love of his life to say something, anything. Then he began to apologise for letting him down. For not jumping in front of him. For not killing the trespasser first. For not getting him here in time. Meanwhile Mingyu hid his head in his hands so as not to face the guilt that threatened to creep in.

As Jeonghan clung to Joshua’s limp body, Jihoon noticed his hand. Two fingers were much shorter and much bloodier than they should be.

“Mingyu?” He spoke up softly, “I think Jeonghan’s lost some fingers.”

Mingyu looked up with a red, teary face. He looked like he was about to faint as he stood and grabbed Jeonghan gently by the shoulders, murmuring that he needed to treat his hand whilst Jeonghan screamed. He pulled him away to the next bed.

“Jeonghan, I’m offering you a distraction,” he said, “what happened to your hand?”

The guy took a moment to breathe. “Th-they bit them… they bit them off.”

“The trespassers?”

Jeonghan looked over at Joshua and nodded. 

“We got close. But I-I killed them. Most of them.”

This startled Jihoon a little bit, considering that Mingyu had said they didn’t aim to kill anyone who came across the town. He decided to assume that this was in self defence - not that he was being lured into false safety.

Mingyu was very grateful for a distraction as he cleaned Jeonghan’s fingers (or what was left of them) and covered them with gauze. They needed surgery - one Mingyu had never performed before - so he decided to leave it until he was in the right mindset to focus. The ring finger stopped at the first knuckle and the pinky just after. Not ideal.

Jeonghan sat back as though he had been defeated. He couldn’t care less about his injury. He just closed his eyes and wished that his darling Joshua was alive.

Once Jeonghan’s hand was sorted out (for now), Mingyu covered Joshua’s body with a spare blanket and picked him up. A makeshift funeral home/morgue was just down the street. Jihoon accompanied him to open doors, but also because he didn’t know what to say to Jeonghan.

The “funeral home” was a plain lodge with a counter and table in one room. There were two other doors - each led to what they used as morgues. One was for non-infected (to be buried) and one was for the infected (to be burned). Jihoon opened the non-infected door and moved out of the way to let Mingyu through.

No one was in at this time, but there was a logbook. With constant patrols, Mingyu explained, it wasn’t unheard of for a death to occur in the middle of the night, so they were prepared to leave someone in and the workers to find them in the morning. Of course, it was always Mingyu who brought the victims in. The health centre was the first stop.

Mingyu came out and filled in the sheet. Joshua Hong. Born 30th December 2016. Died 27th December 2040, approx. 11pm. Cause of death: blood loss. Jihoon sighed.

“That sucks,” he said, “he didn’t even get to his birthday.”

“It also sucks that he’s dead, Jihoon.”

Jihoon apologised. “Sorry. I’m just too used to it, I guess. Death and stuff.”

“Oh?”

Jihoon looked at the ground. He hadn’t really thought about Beomju’s death yet. He had blocked it out. Although he saw death all the time, like the Grim Reaper was his best friend, it didn’t mean that losing his cousin hurt any less. They had worked together for four years. 

Maybe being in a whole new environment made it a little less strange to not have Beomju by his side. When everything was weird, it became a new normal. This new normal just happened to have left Jihoon alone. He was doing okay, though. He was sure.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asked. That was when Jihoon realised the tears welling in his eyes.

“I’m fine.”

“You, uh… you wanna talk about anything?”

“I said I’m fine.”

Mingyu’s head was swarming too much to worry further. They got going, locking the door behind them. 

Jeonghan had stopped crying now. He swapped it for staring blankly at the wall. Mingyu sighed.

“It’s okay, Han.”

Jeonghan shook his head and closed his eyes. When Jihoon got into bed, the boy turned away from him. 

Mingyu changed the sheets from where Joshua had lay. His chest felt tight as he did so. This wasn’t the first time someone had died in his care, but it was the first time a close friend had died in his care. He saw the hurt in Jeonghan’s face and blamed himself for being too slow in treating him. Joshua shouldn’t have died that night. He deserved to die old.

Once the bed was taken care of, Mingyu patted Jeonghan’s jacket, took the keys out and left after explaining he was going to grab some clothes for him. He came back with just that and forced Jeonghan to change out of his bloody clothes and into some cosy nightwear. His dirty things were thrown into the other room with the bedsheets. 

Usually Mingyu went home overnight but this time, he grabbed a blanket and lay down on the sofa. He didn’t like sleeping on patient beds, especially when his friend had just died there. His eyes were as heavy as his heart but he stared at the ceiling for several hours, and when he did fall asleep he dreamt of Joshua where he begged for help and where he couldn’t be saved.

The next morning, Mingyu took a walk through the town to break the news to a few people, allowing it to spread from there. The town thrived on gossip. Then he returned back and checked on Jeonghan. The poor thing was still huddled beneath his blanket to face away from them.

“You need a skin graft,” Mingyu told him.

“Can you do that?” Came a small voice.

“No.”

He grabbed the radio from his belt and spoke into it.

“Hi, it’s Mingyu. I need Soonyoung at the health centre.”

Soonyoung was a very bouncy person, always up for anything with a smile. He grinned at Mingyu as he came in thirty minutes later, then pouted at Jeonghan and waved at Jihoon. Jihoon looked him up and down. He didn’t look how he imagined the stupid hospital raid guy to look. He had chubby cheeks and thin, glowing eyes, and was practically vibrating from the excitement of life. It was rare to see someone so joyful and they kind of terrified Jihoon in a weird way. He just didn’t get it.

“I need you to raid another hospital,” Mingyu said, “and try to find a dermatome. Don’t come back until you’ve got one.”

“A what?”

“Dermatome,” the doctor repeated. He glanced at Jeonghan. “It’s like a vegetable peeler crossed with a razor. I’ll draw it-”

“It’s like a fucking what now?” Jeonghan finally looked over.

Mingyu looked at him apologetically. He sketched into a notebook, ripped the page out and handed it to Soonyoung.

Soonyoung stared at it with furrowed brows. “So is this for surgery? Will he need anaesthesia?”

“Locally, yeah,” Mingyu said, “but obviously he’ll have to go without.”

“I’ll get him some anaesthesia,” Soonyoung decided, “what’s it look like?”

Mingyu responded with a quizzical expression. Soonyoung just shrugged and said he’ll rely on the labels.

“He won’t get any anaesthesia,” Mingyu mumbled as Soonyoung left. 

Once Jeonghan was back to hiding his face, Jihoon had each of his dressings changed. No comments could be made on the bite as long as Jeonghan was in ear shot. They did exchange looks, though. The bite marks were beginning to scab, and the skin surrounding it remained pink. It seemed to be getting redder by the day. It was over a week old now.

Once their daily routine was done, Jihoon turned back to his sewing. He had found a denim jacket that bore a few holes, and with Mingyu’s permission, had begun to patch it up with plaid fabric for Seungcheol. He felt bad after Christmas and felt that since he had saved Jihoon’s life by bringing him here, he deserved at least something. He was almost done now.

Seungcheol came in at that point, having finished with his half day of work. Jihoon threw the jacket beneath his blankets and stared at the man at the door.

“Don’t you ever smile?” Seungcheol asked.

“Why would I?”

“...Okay. Well, whatever you’re hiding, I brought lunch. Who’s that?”

Jihoon looked over. “Jeonghan. Lost some fingers. And a boyfriend.”

“Joshua?!” Seungcheol’s eyes widened. “Shit, Han, I’m sorry-”

“Just shut it,” mumbled a voice from beneath the blanket. Mingyu was watching with guilt in his eyes.

Seungcheol just nodded sadly. He didn’t know Joshua well, but he enjoyed his company and had looked forward to growing closer. They had spent Christmas together after all. 

Jihoon pulled his legs up and Seungcheol sat on the edge of the bed. He handed over the tub in his hands and Jihoon slowly ate. His small appetite had been further damaged by last night’s events. 

Joshua’s death had startled Jihoon. He had just begun to feel safe here, like it truly was out of harm’s way. Not to mention how he had just been admiring how Jeonghan and Joshua felt safe enough to love, and how it was the first thing to give Jihoon hope in a long time. Then the couple burst through the door covered in blood and Jihoon struggled to get the image of Joshua’s dead body out of his mind. It got him thinking about Beomju, left in the cold to rot. At least Joshua was going to be buried. His cousin wasn’t. 

Maybe it was the shock and then the pain of being stabbed that knocked his thoughts away from Beomju. That said, he was in many of Jihoon’s dreams as he lay there in the dark garage. Now both boys were fresh in Jihoon’s mind and he started to feel sick. He pushed his food away. 

“You okay?” Seungcheol asked.

Jihoon lightly shook his head. He glanced over at Jeonghan, who was hurting so, so much, and he wished that he could do something to help him. 

Seungcheol rested his hand on Jihoon’s as a small attempt of comfort. Surprisingly to both of them, Jihoon didn’t move away. At least for a minute.

Jihoon climbed out of bed and walked over to Jeonghan, staying behind him. He winced as he lowered himself onto the ground. Then he placed his hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s okay to hurt, Jeonghan,” Jihoon whispered. 

He felt Jeonghan’s body shudder as he began to sob. Jihoon didn’t say anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is for CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT ok im sorry <3   
> thanks for reading love u bye


	8. vii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bad chapter sorry  
> also btw when jihoon talks stiffly its on purpose hes not used to saying more than a sentence at a time bless

Soonyoung returned two days later. His smile hadn’t faltered. He unzipped his backpack and revealed a product that certainly looked like a vegetable peeler crossed with a razor. 

“I didn’t manage the anaesthesia,” Soonyoung confessed.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? That is surprising. Thanks a lot though, Soon.”

Soonyoung had managed to collect a few other supplies whilst he was there. Mingyu put the dermatome to one side and they started putting things away together. They wouldn’t be needing another hospital raid for a long time.

Jeonghan watched from beneath his blanket, which was drawn up to just below his nose. Wide eyes stared at the dermatome.

Soonyoung piped up. “So I was thinking-”

“Oh christ,” muttered Mingyu.

“I was thinking,” Soonyoung repeated with a playful glare, “that instead of anaesthetics you could just get him drunk as fuck to knock him out.”

Mingyu gave him a long hard look. 

“Or just drunk!” He added, “you know it increases your pain tolerance. It’s a good idea!”

“You know Jeonghan’s an energetic drunk, that would never work.”

“But he’s mourning. Doesn’t alcohol amplify your mood?”

Jihoon looked up from his sewing. “I think that’s cannabis.”

Mingyu started laughing. Soonyoung just frowned in defeat.

“Anyway, Jeonghan can’t have wheat and that’s what beer is,” Mingyu said, “and wine’s precious. There’s no alcohol for him.”

“I’ll take the wheat,” Jeonghan said.

“The surgery is just a short term pain, Han. You’re not taking the wheat.”

Mingyu left the operation until the afternoon, keeping the dermatome device away from Jeonghan's sightline. The poor thing was nervous, and rightfully so. Plus he was trying so hard to distract himself from his lover and this was the only other thing going on. Before this he was fixated on Jihoon’s sewing projects. 

Jihoon and Jeonghan went for lunch together. The younger tried his best to pay, but Jeonghan wouldn’t let him. Apparently he was stubborn even in mourning and pain. Jihoon decided to never argue with him when he was in a good condition. 

They didn’t speak much. Jeonghan didn’t eat much, either. For once Jihoon had eaten more than someone. He nagged and tried to get Jeonghan to finish his meal, but he just prodded his salad with his fork. Jihoon sighed and they walked back, where Mingyu awaited with Wonwoo.

Mingyu was terrified too, but he couldn’t let it show. He wouldn’t tell Jeonghan he had never performed a skin graft before unless it went well enough. And probably long after the operation too. And when Jeonghan was in a really good mood.

Eventually Mingyu went outside with a little sign to hang on the door stating a surgery was in process. When he came back in he put down some sheets over Jeonghan’s bed and the patient lay down. Jihoon sat by his side to help distract him, and to allow Jeonghan to squeeze his hand as an outlet. Wonwoo was given the thrilling task of holding Jeonghan’s bad arm down for when he would inevitably flinch from the pain.

“Tell him a story, Jihoon,” Mingyu suggested.

“I am the most boring person-”

“I don’t care, talk to him. I’m not starting until you’re talking.”

“Uh…” Jihoon racked his brains. He wasn’t happy to share much. He also wasn’t a storyteller - if he had to recall how something went, it was usually as though he was making verbal bullet points. “Uh… how about, um… when I was eleven? Maybe twelve? I was still living in a QZ, but I snuck out with a friend this one time. We were both tiny so we fit through all the gaps through alleyways and beneath fences. I was absolutely terrified to leave.”

Jihoon glanced at Mingyu who had begun to sterilise the area on Jeonghan’s forearm. He looked back at Jihoon.

“And we, uh, we found this mall. It had been raided but not too thoroughly. I don’t think my mum ever questioned where my new clothes came from. And, uh, some electricity was still going in it-”

He was cut off by Jeonghan screaming. Wonwoo pushed hard on his elbow and shoulder to pin it down as Mingyu got to work. Jihoon used his free hand to comfortingly push back Jeonghan’s hair.

“Th-there was this carousel,” he continued. Jeonghan was looking at him desperately. “It was amazing. The lights came on and this creepy music played. The horses were gorgeous too - some were white, others brown, some a mix. We didn’t think it would work but we flicked a switch and it got going. My friend nearly fell over a moving horse trying to get on, it was kind of funny. This is really boring, isn’t it?”

“Just keep talking, Hoon,” Mingyu said.

“Right, right. Uh… it broke down after a couple of minutes, which was good because it turns out the mall actually housed some infected. We ran. He got bitten, though. Yeah, maybe I chose the wrong story.”

“It doesn’t matter what you’re talking about, just keep going,” Wonwoo piped up.

Jihoon nodded, desperately trying to think of something better. 

“Tell me how you got here,” Jeonghan suggested, his voice strained and breathless.

“Oh. Okay. Well, basically my cousin died. He got bitten so I had to shoot him. We had just dropped something off to a friend and to get back, we cut through this abandoned school. A clicker got to him, I shot both of them in the face, and I ran. Well, my horse did. I didn’t feel like going home yet. Then I accidentally trespassed, got pulled off my horse and stabbed, their dog got my hand, I managed to keep going on my horse and got to this old house. Now that I think about it, that house was really creepy. It was in the middle of nowhere. Like, not even a neighbourhood.

Anyway, I kind of expected to die. I just lay down in the garage and waited to bleed to death. Or for infection in either wound to kill me. Whichever came first. Seungcheol got to me before either could happen though. He tried to rob me so we truced. Then he felt like I needed some help and we found this place.”

“When was this?” Jeonghan managed to ask.

“Uh… like, just over a week ago.”

Wonwoo looked up. “You only met Seungcheol a week ago?” He said in disbelief.

Jihoon nodded. “Yeah. We aren’t close. We stayed there for a day and then we thought it best to change location and found the town. That’s it. Ok, what do I talk about now? Are we even halfway?”

Wonwoo replied with a quarter. Jeonghan groaned. Jihoon puffed out his cheeks.

“Do you want to know the plot of this film I watched with Cheol the other day?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, it’s called Surf’s Up, and it should’ve been terrible but I really liked it.”

It was about surfing penguins. Plus a surfing chicken who never really seemed to know what was going on, and was probably high. Tragically Chicken Joe’s dad, Chicken Bob, had died to become a bucket of chicken wings. It was filmed/animated documentary style, and included an interview with a fire urchin who kind of did a little rap about how the main character, Cody, had stepped on him and broken some of his spikes. Jihoon imitated this part and Jeonghan almost smiled. Surprisingly, the film had included some pretty decent life advice. As Jihoon said it was just one of those films that sounds shockingly bad until you watch it. 

Jihoon described the entire plot (with Jeonghan wailing in between) and when he got to the end, he looked expectantly at Mingyu.

“Just a little more,” the doctor said. 

Jihoon nodded. “Um… I really don’t have anything else. That film was my limit. Uh… do you feel up to talking a little? What was Joshua like?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wonwoo asked with a frown.

Jeonghan closed his eyes. For a while, it seemed as though he was ignoring the question. But he did finally speak up. His voice was strained and he was clearly struggling.

“He was amazing. Did you know he played guitar? Yeah. He was going to teach me one day. Not that I can now anyway.”

“You could,” Jihoon argued, “you would just have to play left handed. Sure, you’ll lose a few of the plucky songs but at least you could do chords.”

“You play?”

Jihoon confirmed that he could indeed play guitar. His dad taught him in the QZ. He told Jeonghan about it and he listened harder than he had previously. The patient also spoke about how Joshua’s dad had taught Josh as well - something the two would’ve had in common. His favourite was a song by Maroon 5 called Sunday Morning. It used to annoy Jeonghan (it got repetitive), but now he’d give anything to hear Joshua sing that song again.

He told Jihoon about how they met as young dumb teenagers when Joshua’s family moved here. He told him about how they’d sneak out for their dates, bringing food with them for picnics. They’d get yelled at when they returned but in their opinion, it was worth it. As adults, although they didn’t live together, they spent every free hour with each other and most nights were a movie night. Jeonghan told Jihoon all of this in between deep breaths and groans of pain.

“Okay, you’re done,” Mingyu said finally, taping the bandage on Jeonghan’s arm where the skin had been taken from. 

Everyone took a breath of relief. Jeonghan thanked Mingyu and then Jihoon, too. Jihoon nodded awkwardly in response. He didn’t feel like he’d been much help at all. Their hands let go of each other and Jihoon sat back. He had been leaning on the floor for some time now and it hurt his stomach - a lot. He didn’t want to get up yet.

Mingyu put Jeonghan’s arm in a sling to keep it out of the way, got him to down some painkillers and told him he could go home whenever he felt ready to. Of course he would have to return for frequent check ups. He suspected it would be a while before he went home though, considering how many memories of Joshua lived within his lodge. He looked at him sadly as Jeonghan lay back and finally felt relaxed enough to fall asleep. He needed it. The poor boy hadn’t slept at all the previous night.

Jihoon stood up with a painful grunt or two, earning a mildly concerned look from Mingyu. He didn’t say anything. He just watched to see that he was alright. The boy sat down without any further ado so the doctor turned back to cleaning his tools and putting them away.

Wonwoo had his arm around Mingyu, holding him close as he worked and asking how he was holding up. Jihoon watched them. He almost wanted to be held like that too. But by who?

Seungcheol came to mind and Jihoon desperately shook it off. Absolutely not. Why did he think of Seungcheol?

Speaking of the devil, Seungcheol came through the door. He pouted at Jihoon.

“Shooting is hard,” he said.

Jihoon snorted. “I take it you’re not doing well? I can help you if you want.”

“Jihoon, it’s been… too many days and I’ve not hit a single target yet. What day is it, anyway?”

“The 30th,” Mingyu mumbled. “Joshua’s 24th.”

A sad silence greeted that. Seungcheol just gave Jihoon a look and nodded towards the door. Jihoon threw on his boots, layers and backpack and they went outside.

“I can’t go too far, Cheol, I’m sore today.”

Seungcheol nodded. He looked around. “The shooting range is about ten minutes. Is that okay?”

Jihoon said yes and they got going. Finally the gun he glued to his hand was going to come in handy.

They look a left from the health centre, meaning they passed the daycare. Seungcheol waved at the little girl who was coming out with her dad. They pulled funny faces at each other until they couldn’t see each other anymore. Jihoon watched with a soft expression. It was cute. He was cute.

The shooting range was down a small road, clearly to be out of the way of children’s sight. They entered through a wooden gate and Seungcheol kept walking until finally, they reached the area of targets. Someone leaned against the fence that blocked people from said targets. The place was lit by lamps for the winter evening.

“Hey, Seungkwan,” Seungcheol greeted.

Seungkwan looked up. “Back again? Ooh, is this Jihoon? Hi! I’ve heard a lot about you. Seungcheol talks a lot.”

Jihoon looked up at Seungcheol with raised eyebrows. The man blushed furiously.

“He’s here to show me how it’s done.”

Jihoon spun his gun in the air and caught it as a response. Seungkwan gave him an amused smile. He told him to show off when he’s ready, and reassured him about not wasting ammo. He checked out the gun and confirmed they had plenty of bullets for it. 

Jihoon clicked the safety off. Without saying or doing anything else, he turned his head to the target and pulled the trigger three times. Three bullseyes followed.

“If I had a bad aim I’d be dead five times over,” he said plainly. He handed over his gun. “Your turn.”

Seungcheol hit the edge of one (1) target. Jihoon leaned on the fence and put his head in his hands.

“I see,” his muffled voice said. “Right. Come here.”

Jihoon stood up straight and pulled Seungcheol in. He put his hands on top of his, pulling his arms down and straightening his aim. Next he talked him through the steps, trying to think of what tips his uncle had given him years ago. Seungcheol took everything in. Somehow it stuck better when it came from Jihoon rather than Seungkwan. Plus at the end of it, Seungcheol managed to hit the target.

He handed Jihoon’s gun back and he reloaded it. He clicked the safety on.

“Movie night?” Seungcheol suggested once they’d left the range. Jihoon agreed.

Chan was working late (as always) so the two had the place to themselves. Seungcheol cooked pizza, which Jihoon had always wanted to try. Once food was on the table, Seungcheol threw on Deadpool, because it was already in the DVD player from Chan the other day and neither had seen it. They lay in bed together, albeit rather faraway from one another, and ate their food with eyes glued to the screen.

“So he can regrow limbs?” Jihoon said.

“Yeah?”

The boy nodded. “Jeonghan could never.”

Seungcheol choked on his pizza slice and Jihoon awkwardly slapped him on the back to help him out.

“You can’t say that!”

“Well, I wouldn’t to his face.”

Seungcheol shook his head, bewildered by the boy’s humour. He assumed it was humour. Jihoon was yet to even smile. He bet his smile was pretty, though. The man would kill to make him laugh. It probably sounded like music.

“What makes you happy?” He asked. Jihoon gave him a puzzled look.

“Uh… I don’t know. I like my hoodie?” He flapped his arms about a little bit to emphasise his sweater paws.

Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Hoon. Does anything make you smile?” 

The boy shrugged and picked at the blanket self consciously. “I smile if I feel like it. Why? Don’t I smile?”

“No, never.”

Jihoon looked down. Suddenly he felt insecure. “I’m not trying to be miserable.”

“I know, I know,” Seungcheol reassured him, “I just think you deserve better than whatever’s made you like this.”

“Like this?” Jihoon finally looked at him.

“Well,” Seungcheol fidgeted, “you don’t come across as like… you just don’t seem happy. Carrying a gun everywhere doesn’t exactly scream stability.”

Jihoon didn’t answer. He was never particularly happy - how could you be in these circumstances? That didn’t mean he was unhappy though. He was neither here nor there. He realised then that he didn’t feel much at all.

“I just don’t see what there is to be so cheerful about,” Jihoon said quietly. “This world sucks, Cheol. You’ve not seen what I’ve seen.”

“Tell me about it then,” Seungcheol begged, “let me take some of the weight from your shoulders. Let me share the burden. Let me help you, Hoon.”

Jihoon stared deep into the man’s big pretty eyes. For a moment, it seemed like he would say something. Like he would ask for the comfort he subconsciously craved.

“I need to go,” he whispered. 

Seungcheol didn’t reply. He just sadly watched Jihoon leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry  
> love u bye


	9. viii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not my best chapter and not my best proofing job but im in a bad headspace today so enjoy xx

Jeonghan did what Mingyu expected him to do - procrastinate discharging himself in order not to face the outside world without Joshua. He had left to eat with Jihoon once or twice, and to Joshua’s funeral the day before his birthday. Other than that, he stayed in bed and looked miserable. Jihoon appreciated the company, though. Mingyu did too in a way, since it made him feel a little less guilty about leaving the centre to spend time with Wonwoo. Before, he’d felt bad about Jihoon being alone in a new place.

The two injured boys were alone now. Mingyu was on a lunch date which he didn’t really feel up to, but both he and Wonwoo wanted a distraction from Joshua. Currently Jihoon was proudly admiring his handiwork of Seungcheol’s jacket. However, he was dreading seeing him after last night’s conversation. His leaving in a haste after a talk like that was bound to leave something between them.

Seungcheol came by with lunch for all three boys today. He gave Jeonghan his and then sat on Jihoon’s bed.

“Merry Christmas,” Jihoon said quietly. He handed over the jacket. “It’s what I was hiding the other day. Sorry it’s late. Oh, and I embroidered something on the back.”

Seungcheol held it up. His eyes ran over the little stitched patches before turning it over to see the embroidery. It was a rainbow on a cloud, as well as a standing umbrella with some raindrops falling from it. ‘Bright After Rain’ was stitched beneath it. The label inside the collar also bore CS on the collar, the year, and a tiny LJ. Jihoon loved finding old possessions with years and messages tied to them, so he had personalised it in case Seungcheol one day left it somewhere and someone could come across some second hand nostalgia, just as Jihoon loved to do.

“L Jihoon?” Seungcheol asked. Lee? Lim?

Jihoon didn’t reply, but Seungcheol was pleased with the little ounce of trust to even know the first letter of Jihoon’s surname.

“I love it, Hoon. Thank you.” He shrugged off his khaki bomber jacket and replaced it with the gift. It fit perfectly.

Jihoon began eating. It was fish and chips. And for the first time, he finished a whole meal that wasn’t on Christmas day. Seungcheol was proud of him, even though he’d only managed his first full meal himself two days ago. Jeonghan barely ate anything at all. He put it to one side and went back to staring out the window.

“How’s he doing?” Seungcheol asked.

“Not good,” Jihoon sighed, “but his hand’s healing well, so it’s not all bad.”

Seungcheol had training again and after checking with Jeonghan if it was okay, Jihoon joined him. He was getting bored being there all day, but also he liked it when Seungcheol was impressed by him. It was strange considering Jihoon hated to stand out and therefore never showed anything off, but somehow with Seungcheol he liked grabbing his attention. And then this was on top of the sudden willingness to be within his company. What was happening? 

It went the same as before, except Jihoon didn’t help Seungcheol’s aim by holding him because he was feeling self conscious of it. He didn’t want Seungcheol to think he was interested in him. Because he wasn’t. Not one bit.

“Why are you standing like six feet away?” Seungcheol asked with a small laugh. 

Jihoon blinked. “So you don’t shoot me in the face. Why do you care?”

“I-I don’t.” Seungcheol turned back to the target to hide his burning cheeks. He missed the shot.

Jihoon leaned heavily against the fence. It seemed that almost daily walks with Seungcheol had finally caught up with him. The pain hadn’t lessened much. Worst of all, he’d have to tell this to Mingyu.

Eventually Jihoon abandoned the want to show off his shooting and sat down against the wall, watching the targets through the gap in the fence. Seungcheol noticed, of course, and checked that he was okay before focusing again on his gun. He was getting just a little bit better. Maybe. And with Seungkwan’s help today.

What felt like a long while later, Seungcheol put the gun away before helping Jihoon stand up. He took his hand and pulled, which was perhaps a bad approach since the boy almost fell again from the sudden pain. 

“Easy does it,” Seungcheol said, grabbing his arm again. “Here, hold onto me.”

“I’m fine.” 

Jihoon’s mildly strained voice said otherwise and Seungcheol frowned at him. He didn’t argue. Instead he just walked him back with Jihoon holding onto his stomach as if that would act as a painkiller.

Once they got to the door, Jihoon spoke.

“Do you have the time to check on Heather?” He asked. “My horse. Please?”

Seungcheol nodded. “Of course. I’ll go now.”

Jihoon thanked him and as the man walked away, he went inside. Jeonghan watched him stumble to his bed. He didn’t say anything though. Jihoon was grateful. It seemed grief had its positives.

“Don’t tell Mingyu I’m in pain,” he said, then added “How are your fingers?” 

“Hurting.”

“They’re not even there.”

Jeonghan sighed as if he had been defeated by his own body.

Silence followed. Jihoon hissed as he bent over to unlace his boots and change into a pair of sweatpants, left by Wonwoo with a note on top saying so and also telling him to “stay in bed for one fucking day, Hoon”. The boy scoffed and put it to one side. He lay back with a grunt and pulled the blanket close to his chin. He closed his eyes. He was ready for a nap.

“Jihoon?”

He opened his eyes and looked at Jeonghan.

“When did your cousin die?”

Jihoon thought about it for a moment. “Nearly two weeks ago.”

“How are you okay?” Jeonghan asked, his voice soft. His big eyes were full of hurt. 

“Who said I am?” Jihoon said softly. His friend looked away. “I just… I’m not letting myself think about it. That’s how I cope.”

“How do you do that? J-J… He’s all I can think about. W-when he was shot, he kept asking me to help him. He was begging me. And I couldn’t. I keep dreaming about him. And he asks me over and over again. He’s screaming and he’s crying and I can’t save him. I can’t.”

Jeonghan broke down into sobs and Jihoon let him. The boy hadn’t cried at all. Jihoon knew from numerous mental breakdowns that crying was one of the best outlets. He thought about how he’d screamed alone after his parents died, after he couldn’t get their infected faces out of his head. He thought about how he’d punched a hole in a wall and broken some knuckles after he’d watched someone slice his uncle’s throat on a job. How he’d sobbed after the death of a little boy he’d been smuggling, the times when everyone he was paired up with for jobs got killed or infected. These were all times where Jihoon had felt the loneliest. Where Jihoon saw the worst of the world. Where more than ever, Jihoon had needed someone to be with.

He said fuck it to his stomach and climbed out of bed again. He got in next to Jeonghan and let him have someone to cry to, because in that moment Jihoon realised how much he had always wanted that himself. 

Jeonghan clung onto Jihoon with a tight grasp, whose shoulder soon became soaked. He couldn’t care less. He held the poor thing close and let him pour his heart out. 

“It’s okay,” Jihoon whispered, “it’s okay. Let it out.”

Eventually Jeonghan pulled away. He kept his head low and sniffed as he wiped his eyes. Jihoon kept his hand on his arm whilst leaning back against the head of the bed. Afterall, his stomach really was killing him after staying in such an awkward position for too long. He didn’t complain though. He knew it was nothing compared to what Jeonghan was going through.

Mingyu chose that second to come through the door. He looked concerned at the boys.

“Jihoon’s in pain,” Jeonghan sniffed. 

Jihoon was dragged back to his bed and his wound checked over. All of this was done with the occasional worried glance at Jeonghan from both of them. He was turned away from them, as per usual. Mingyu sighed.

“Is he okay?” He asked.

Jihoon shrugged. “Not really. But I reckon he will be. How are you holding up?”

Mingyu didn’t reply. The guy was still guilt ridden, like Jeonghan was. He should’ve acted quicker. His job was to prevent people from dying and he couldn’t even save a close friend.

“Okay, you have to stay in bed, Hoon,” Mingyu said, changing the subject, “so your body can actually heal. Wearing yourself out isn’t doing any good.”

Jihoon nodded and picked up his latest sewing project - his millionth shirt, although to switch it up a bit this one was long sleeved. Seungcheol swung by again to say Heather the horse was doing well, then sat and watched Jihoon sew. The concentration on the boy’s face was cute. Looking at the needle made him go cross eyed too, and Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey, are you coming to the New Year’s Eve party tonight?” He asked.

Jihoon blinked. “Uh, no, I think I’m on bed rest.”

“I have a heart!” Mingyu piped up. “Just that party, okay? Because I want you to bring Jeonghan.”

“I’m not going,” Jeonghan argued quietly.

He was told by Mingyu that he didn’t have a choice, and getting drunk would do him some temporary good. Obviously Mingyu was a very good mental health professional.

Jihoon took a nap before eating dinner and throwing his jeans on. They were meeting Wonwoo there, so he and Jeonghan lugged behind Seungcheol and Mingyu who chatted away as if they were old friends. Anyone would say it was sweet. Jihoon saw it as very naïve of Seungcheol to be so friendly. So he walked in the silence with the grumpy Jeonghan, who probably would’ve mumbled something in response to anything Jihoon might have said. It never occurred to him that the mourning boy was yearning for distractions.

The party was at the town hall of course, and reminded Jihoon of Christmas. There were less kids at this one, what with it running so late, and there were some new faces. Mingyu introduced him to a few. He recognised Jun, who was with who seemed like his boyfriend. The boyfriend was Minghao. Jihoon frowned. He remembered someone saying about Minghao. Something like he was distrustful of him and Seungcheol. Jihoon knew what he was capable of when he was suspicious, and it made him wonder what Minghao could do. He was already looking them up and down.

“Don’t mind him,” Mingyu said, but Jihoon already held his gun. He tried not to clutch his stomach - it only made him look vulnerable.

The group sat down at a table. Jihoon was sandwiched between Seungcheol and Jeonghan, his apparent best friends. He leaned towards Jeonghan. 

Wonwoo got up and collected everyone a drink - wine or beer for all and water for Mingyu, who never let himself drink in case a new patient came his way. Jeonghan chugged his immediately and Jihoon watched with amusement.

“Helps the pain,” Jeonghan muttered defensively. Neither of them knew whether he meant losing Joshua or losing his fingers. Jihoon wanted to choose the latter and chug his drink as well, but he still wouldn't let himself get drunk. Not now Minghao was eyeing him from several tables across. Jihoon stared back.

“If he’s looking at you suspiciously, it’s because you look suspicious,” Mingyu hissed, “take your gun off the table.”

Jihoon obeyed. He put the gun on his lap instead.

Small talk commenced. Seungcheol asked about Wonwoo’s job, which was a fair point. His job seemed to be keeping Mingyu company. Turns out he was training to be a doctor, but only lowkey given the resources. He studied at home and Jihoon had noticed he often read medical books, but he assumed that since they were from the health centre there was simply nothing better for him to do. Hanging out with Mingyu was often treated like learning on the job, hence why he was the one helping during Jeonghan's operation. Despite this, he stayed out of the way of Jihoon because Mingyu told him the boy could do with the space. Jihoon knew this was so he couldn’t question the bite mark. Which hadn’t changed, actually.

The evening ran slowly. Eventually, people began to dance. Mingyu and Wonwoo were included despite Wonwoo having lost all ability to walk in a straight line. It made him giggle as he danced with a sway, looking at Mingyu like he was the only man in the world. Jeonghan refused to look, but Jihoon did with great interest as he used to when Joshua was alive. The ounce of safety he’d grown to see within this place had been destroyed by his death, and now he looked at couples with even more disbelief. Jihoon struggled to keep himself alive. Even when partnered with someone, the agreement was to only worry about yourself. It was like all empathy had been programmed out of him and he could no longer imagine having someone under his wing.

The last person Jihoon had looked after was the last child he smuggled. He was fourteen. The little boy was ten years younger. Xinyi, his name was. Jihoon remembered him well. The job was to take him across 50 miles - by foot - where his family waited. He was some firefly’s son. It was dangerous enough for Xinyi’s father to make the journey (the fireflies were hated by many) and the man hadn’t thought it safe to keep Xinyi with him, so it was up to the smugglers to take him. Of course, a four year old wasn’t used to the infected. He cried out when he saw one, and attracted them over. They kept coming. Eventually poor Xinyi was caught. It was the first time Jihoon had seen the infected eat a body. He ran whilst Xinyi screamed for help. He re-lived it some nights. It took many reminders that no one could’ve saved anyone from that to calm Jihoon down. He tugged on his ear now at the memory.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Seungcheol snapped him out of it.

Jihoon thought about it. “Nah.”

“How about a bullet?”

“You can unlock my thoughts when you hit a bullseye,” Jihoon said. 

Seungcheol nodded. “I’ll work hard. Uh… Wanna dance?”

Jihoon raised his eyebrows at him. He knew him better than that. The man shrugged.

“Worth a shot.”

Jihoon caught Jeonghan staring at his drink and the boy slid it over. Jeonghan chugged it like his first. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Seungcheol asked him.

Jeonghan told him to ask again when he’s had a few more drinks. He had a few more, as did Seungcheol, Seungcheol asked, they got up and danced. Jihoon was left alone at the table. He still held his gun on his lap. He spotted Minghao with Jun on the dancefloor and his shoulders relaxed a little.

Then his eyes wandered to Seungcheol. He was holding Jeonghan’s hand and spinning him around. Jihoon found himself staring at the table. Suddenly a feeling of loneliness wrapped around him. Maybe just once it would be okay to have a bit of fun. Five minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

He got up, leaving his gun on the table. Jihoon found his way to Seungcheol, who grinned at him.

“You want to dance now?” He asked.

Jihoon didn’t reply. He didn’t want to dance. He just… he almost wanted to be someone. Someone innocent. Then Seungcheol took his hand with a warm look in his eyes. Jeonghan was happy to dance alone - but it wasn’t like either noticed. 

“You didn’t look this scared the other night,” Seungcheol said softly. 

Jihoon still didn’t reply. He just let Seungcheol pull him close and move him to the music. Eventually he felt a little more comfortable and spun fluidly, leaned into Seungcheol’s arms, stepped a little more elegantly. It was almost fun. One thing that stopped it from being so was the pain in his side that was close to blinding. 

Jihoon’s face scrunched up and he stopped moving, apart from looking down. Seungcheol kept hold of him.

“That’s enough,” he said gently. He led Jihoon back to their table, where Mingyu and Wonwoo were snacking on some crisps. Immediately Jihoon realised something was missing.

“Where’s my gun?” He asked weakly. The boys looked around. Wonwoo checked under the table, Seungcheol the chairs.

“Probably given to lost and found,” Mingyu suggested, “you can get it back tomorrow. It’ll be closed for collection now.”

Jihoon shook his head. “No, I need it now, I…”

His chest was pounding, far worse than earlier. It hit suddenly and it felt tight as though his lungs were caving in. The colour drained from his face. The pain in his side was nothing now. His security, his protection… and Minghao was looking. Seungcheol held him as his breathing grew more rapid by the second and his body trembled.

“You can take my knife,” he offered. He unbuckled the sheath around his thigh and put it around Jihoon’s, who didn’t seem to notice. Wonwoo had poured out some water, which he also didn’t notice. 

Jihoon needed his gun. It was the only way he felt safe. It was the only way he kept calm. The only reason he could sleep. 

The anxiety and the pain worked together ferociously until Jihoon collapsed into Seungcheol’s arms. He was still conscious, but losing awareness of his surroundings. He shut his eyes as the noise around him got louder and shapes began to move all around. He could feel himself being lowered and didn’t think anything of it. Seungcheol was holding him in his lap. All Jihoon could focus on was the feeling in his chest and his stomach that told him he was about to die.

“Let’s take him home,” Wonwoo sighed softly, “poor thing.”

Seungcheol got up slowly so as not to knock Jihoon’s head on the wooden floor. Then he scooped the boy up in his arms. Jihoon’s eyelids fluttered and he looked up at Seungcheol, then leaned against him and shut his eyes once again. For this moment only, he trusted him.

After some convincing from Seungcheol, Mingyu and Wonwoo stayed behind whilst he carried Jihoon to the hospital. He lay him in his bed as gently as he could. It still triggered a grunt of pain from Jihoon. Seungcheol tugged his boots off as well as the sheath around his thigh. He took the knife out and put it by his bed. It didn’t make Jihoon feel any better. It wasn’t his gun. It wasn’t as reliable.

Seungcheol tucked him in and then sat down at the end of the bed. He watched the minutes pass on the clock.

“Jihoon?”

The boy opened his eyes with a hum.

“Happy new year.”

Jihoon sighed. “Happy new year.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im currently writing ch26 so let me know if u want more than weekly updates i can easily provide  
> thank u for reading love u bye


	10. ix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> started proofing it. had a breakdown. bon appetit

On January 1st, Jihoon (ever the light sleeper) was awakened by a sudden thud by his hand. He opened his eyes to see his gun. He sighed a deep sigh of relief. Mingyu smiled at him.

“Easy as that,” he said. 

Jeonghan was still asleep, which was good because he had a lot of wine the previous night. He didn’t return until 5 in the morning - four hours ago. Jihoon heard him tumble in since he could barely sleep himself. The door opening scared the shit out of him and he’d grabbed Seungcheol’s knife with a shaky hand. Drunk Jeonghan found this hilarious. 

Whilst the two were “alone” now, Mingyu took care of Jihoon’s hand as always. Jihoon went over his lack of infection symptoms, took his medicine, and then sat back for Mingyu to redress his stab wound, just like he did everyday. The infection was clearing now. He was still on bed rest, though. Jihoon didn’t mind. It hurt like fuck anyway - he didn’t have the energy to go out with Seungcheol like he usually did.

Seungcheol. He was reminded of him dancing with Jeonghan and a funny feeling crept to his chest. What was that? Jealousy? The thought disgusted him. No, it was just a general loneliness. But Seungcheol wasn’t anyone special, anyway. The guy couldn’t even shoot. And he barely knew him, so why should he have the right to make him feel lonely? Jihoon found himself scowling. 

“Sorry, am I hurting you?” Mingyu asked. He pressed softer with the cloth. “I think you really are immune at this point. You’re so lucky.”

Jihoon winced at these words. Lucky? Beomju had died because of the cordyceps. His parents had died because of it. His uncle, too, and several other partners he’d been paired with. Everyone around him could easily die of this. And Jihoon got to live on. Why him? That didn’t feel lucky. That felt unfair. What use was immunity?

“There were some Fireflies who hoped to use someone’s immunity for a cure,” Mingyu said quietly.

Jihoon sighed. “I heard the surgeon was killed.”

“Shit.”

“Jihoon’s immune?”

Jihoon grabbed his gun and pointed it towards Jeonghan. Mingyu froze. In great contrast, Jeonghan lay lazily staring at the two. He blinked as Jihoon clicked off the safety of his weapon.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone,” Mingyu demanded. Anyone could sense the nerves in his voice. “He was bitten a few days before he got here.”

“It doesn’t make sense-”

“That’s why you need to keep your mouth shut,” said the doctor, “or he’s dead.”

Jihoon piped up with a cold tone. “You saw the blood on my bandage when we met, right? And you’ve never seen me without it, right?”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows were furrowed. 

“Show it to me.”

Jihoon held the gun posed with his right hand as Mingyu hesitantly took off the wrapping. He held Jihoon’s left arm out.

Jeonghan wanted to get up for a closer look, but the throbbing in his head told him no. It didn’t matter anyway. The bite was a bold enough pink, with what looked like squashed bubbles decorating the healing teeth marks. His thoughts spiralled. Jihoon’s hand _had _been covered in blood when he got here. And he’d heard almost two weeks ago now that Jihoon had been bitten by a dog. That tale was older than the time it took to turn.__

__Eventually Jeonghan was forced to accept it. He’d been with him for two days now, and he knew Jihoon hadn’t left this town since he got here. Afterall, he was often the one on the doors. Jeonghan took a sharp breath. His conclusion was it was okay if Jihoon turned anyway. Jeonghan couldn’t find anything to live for._ _

__“As long as Minghao doesn’t find out,” he said plainly._ _

__Mingyu nodded and said of course. He redressed Jihoon’s hand and forced the boy to lower his gun. Jeonghan found it amusing._ _

__“Shoot if you want. I don’t care.”_ _

__Mingyu sighed at him._ _

__Although he put a lot of trust in Jeonghan generally, Mingyu chose not to leave the two alone for at least a few days. Immunity wasn’t going to be trusted. Anyone’s fear could result in Jihoon’s murder. Especially Minghao’s._ _

__The two were alike, Mingyu knew, and yet so different. Minghao was taught distrust. Jihoon adopted it unwillingly. This was clear by his attachment to self protection - when Minghao moved in he had only asked a lot of questions about anything and everything so that he knew what was what. Jihoon would never even trust the answers._ _

__Yet another relaxed day commenced. What was left of Jeonghan’s fingers was checked on (all healing well, Mingyu was relieved to note) before he was approved to have a dab at sewing. Jihoon threw him some supplies and Jeonghan got going. This was, of course, after his hangover had more or less cleared. His stitches were clumsy and he got frustrated with himself, but Mingyu insisted he kept going since it was both therapeutic and got him moving his sore hand again. There was nothing like a good bit of physiotherapy, he said sarcastically._ _

__“Was it with your cousin?” Jeonghan asked after a long, peaceful silence between them all._ _

__“Huh?” Jihoon looked up._ _

__“When you got bitten. You said your cousin was infected, so…”_ _

__“Oh,” said Jihoon, “yeah. It was.”_ _

__Jeonghan nodded and asked why he hadn’t shot himself too. Mingyu listened with interest. He had no context, but still._ _

__Jihoon shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it, surprise surprise. It was all a blur anyway - his memory of the event was a mess that he hadn’t thought to clear up yet. It was easier that way._ _

__

__Seungcheol had the day off, but he used it to relax. Chan had given him a blank paged notebook for Christmas with a pen and pencil. The boy had already doodled his way through several pages - a portrait of his mother, a rabbit he saw the other day, and a page of profile studies that resembled Jihoon. He was scowling in each one._ _

__He was sketching Chan right now. Chan didn’t know. His roommate was relaxed on the sofa engrossed in a book, and Seungcheol felt like his Jihoon study was beginning to get creepy (if it wasn’t already) so he’d found himself focusing on him instead._ _

__“As handsome as you are,” Seungcheol said, “your nose is a nightmare to get right.”_ _

__Chan started touching the bridge with a frown. “Is there a bump? I broke it a while ago…”_ _

__“Not that I can see.”_ _

__“Oh, okay. Get better at art, then.”_ _

__Seungcheol raised his eyebrows with amusement and turned back to the page. Finally he felt like he’d succeeded in the shape of Chan’s nose, practically whizzed through the rest in comparison and then showed it off proudly after adding a signature to the corner. Chan smiled in return._ _

__“Very pretty.”_ _

__“Thanks, mum.”_ _

__Seungcheol stared at it until he hated it then tucked the notebook in his bag._ _

__“Are you off to draw Jihoon?”_ _

__Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe.”_ _

__Since meeting Jihoon, Seungcheol hadn’t gone a day without seeing him. Originally it was because he felt obligated to, having been the one who dragged him here, but now he felt almost drawn to him. He was interesting. Yeah, he was cold and a little rude, but somehow Seungcheol liked that about him. His bluntness made him laugh. And even if Jihoon did wear a permanent scowl, he was still nice to look at. Seungcheol smiled thinking about him now but he worried about him too. He longed to know why Jihoon protected himself that way. Surely the boy wasn’t particularly happy and Seungcheol hated to think about that._ _

__Because of this, he guessed that Jihoon needed some space so he wasn’t sure if he’d go to see him today, as much as he’d miss him. It was nice to think that maybe Jihoon would feel a little upset by it, but Seungcheol didn’t really believe that._ _

__“I’ll check on Jihoon’s horse,” Seungcheol decided aloud, “and let him know how she is. Then I’ll leave him alone today.” Chan nodded without really caring._ _

__The walk to the stables used to feel pretty, but now it was boring with its repetitiveness. Seungcheol couldn’t wait for summer to come around, for the snow to melt and flowers to bloom. He wondered what lay beneath the snow. How much grass was there? Were there dirt paths or gravel, or maybe even tiles? His imagination ran wild thinking of all the possible ways a town could look whilst still intact. It must be beautiful._ _

__Heather was well, as always. She looked significantly healthier than when Seungcheol had first met her. Her coat now glistened and her eyes were bright, too. She’d even put on a little bit of weight. If it wasn’t for the state Jihoon had been in, Seungcheol would’ve assumed Heather had been neglected by a careless owner. Seungcheol patted her head and fed her an apple before turning around the way he came._ _

__He made it to the health centre only to find Jihoon asleep. His book was lying by his hand, like the boy had drifted off in the middle of reading. Seungcheol sighed quietly._ _

__“Come for your knife?” Mingyu asked._ _

__Seungcheol nodded, but he had actually forgotten about it. He tiptoed past Jihoon to take the knife and buckle the sheath back around his leg._ _

__“How are you feeling, Han?” He asked politely._ _

__“Mingyu won’t let me take ibuprofen,” Jeonghan said with a groan._ _

__“It would be a waste!”_ _

__“Would not! It’s not the hangover. My hand hurts, too!”_ _

__“Then why are you still sewing?”_ _

__Seungcheol hushed them. “Don’t wake up Jihoon.”_ _

__The two quietened down._ _

__Seungcheol no longer felt like he had a reason to be here, but it was rude to walk in and out so he sat on the floor by Jihoon’s bed, like he usually did. Everyday Mingyu made a mental note to find a chair from somewhere for him, and everyday he forgot._ _

__He stayed for an hour, glancing at Jihoon fairly often. The boy seemed to be sleeping well. His eyelids fluttered as he dreamed. So Seungcheol gave up waiting for him to wake up and got going._ _

__

__“Jihoon, please help me!”_ _

__Jihoon woke up with a scream. Mingyu looked over with concern. He asked if he was okay, but Jihoon barely heard him. He barely felt the pain of suddenly sitting up either. He lay back and tried to focus on his breathing as images flashed in his mind, the fear in that voice, the face of the owner. It had been ten years but the memory remained crystal clear. Then Mingyu’s hand on his shoulder startled him once again and he jumped violently. As the doctor apologised, Jihoon had gone back to square one. The screams grew clearer once again and hurt eyes stared into his soul._ _

__Eventually the memory faded and Jihoon could open his eyes. He blinked at the bleak ceiling. Mingyu rubbed his arm comfortingly._ _

__Nightmares weren’t uncommon for Jihoon. He had phases where he’d get them frequently, then nothing for a few months. He wished it had aligned better so that these new people didn’t see him vulnerable, but not much could be done._ _

__“I’m okay now, Gyu,” Jihoon mumbled._ _

__“Are you sure?”_ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

__Jihoon wriggled out of his grasp and Mingyu retreated._ _

__The first thing Jihoon noticed now that he was looking around wasn’t the pretty sunset out of the window, but the lack of Seungcheol by his side. Usually he was here by now. The disappointment came as a surprise and Jihoon subconsciously pouted._ _

__“Is, uh… is Seungcheol busy?” Jihoon asked quietly._ _

__Mingyu shrugged. “I guess so. He was round earlier. Told me to tell you Heather’s thriving.”_ _

__Jihoon nodded, somewhat satisfied. But he couldn’t help but wish that Seungcheol stuck around._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes  
> love u bye


	11. x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> currently writing ch30 and jamming to homerun,, also funfact i wrote this chapter in july i think just a bit of perspective for u there ogo k read thank

Another morning, another nightmare. This time it was his mother. Her once delicate eyes looking so lifeless… the hands that combed Jihoon’s hair now clawing at the same boy, digging her nails in and pulling him to her so violently that Jihoon nearly fell over… and then her blood on the floor from the bullet wound in her skull. His father’s body lay nearby and the little Jihoon screamed.

He screamed now, too. Suddenly he was twelve again and the fear punched him in the chest. It was the first time Jihoon had seen any infected for himself and it was his darling mother, his strong father, dead in his home and their blood on his uncle’s hands and his own wrist. Jihoon yelled as he had back then. He was unable to differentiate today from the memory. He was young and he was afraid.

Jeonghan was out on a walk and Mingyu was having breakfast with Wonwoo, but Seungcheol was by his side for the first time in a few days. He grabbed Jihoon’s hand and rubbed his back as the boy sobbed. The poor thing was shaking like an earthquake.

“It’s okay, Hoon,” he murmured. Jihoon didn’t hear him. He remained sitting limply as if he were a loose doll. He let the sobs rack his body, unable to escape the memory. Inside his head, he walked through a long hallway. He opened a door and his mother would attack him, then Jihoon would blink and the room would be empty. Every door he opened led him back to the start. 

Seungcheol held him until it subsided. He counted with him as a breathing exercise - breathe in for four, out for four.

Mingyu walked in and sighed out of exasperation.

“See,” he said to Wonwoo, “the one time I leave a patient he hurts himself.”

“It’s just a nightmare,” Seungcheol said.

“Well, he’ll have aggravated his stomach now,” Mingyu pointed out.

Jihoon’s stomach was actually doing much better. It did ache, yes, but the pain was far more ignorable than before. Mingyu was relieved by the progress. After Joshua, it was frequently on his mind that maybe Jihoon’s infection would kill him - or that it would get infected again. 

The boy was steady now. He was breathing fine and no longer saw his parents’ bodies when he closed his eyes. Jihoon wriggled out of Seungcheol’s grasp and distracted himself by taking his medicine.

“What’ve you been up to?” He asked the guy sitting beside him. It unintentionally came out a little cold.

“Extra gun training,” Seungcheol shrugged. He squirmed in his chair (!). “And I thought maybe you’d like a bit of space. I felt like I was being a bit overbearing. Oh, you’d be proud of my shooting progress though! Seungkwan said I might be able to go on some of the gentler patrols.” 

Jihoon nodded his approval and ignored the rest. Once he was healed, Jihoon didn’t plan on staying, but if he did he’d like to do patrols. With his experience he’d most likely be quite good. Plus Jihoon imagined you got a nice walk out of them.

A few days later, Jihoon had finished his antibiotics course, his stomach was healed and he felt far better than a few weeks prior. He was allowed out again now and the only reason he struggled walking around town was that he wasn’t used to it - not that he was injured. So now Jihoon was packing his things into his backpack as best as he could.

“Have you been discharged?” Seungcheol asked as he came through the door. “Where you gonna go?”

Jihoon shrugged. “I can’t go back to Busan just yet. I’ll find somewhere to stay for a few weeks and work off my stay, then I’ll go.”

Seungcheol blinked. He looked hurt. “You aren’t staying?”

“I mean, my people have no idea where I am,” Jihoon said, “I’m months overdue and I need to tell them my cousin’s dead.”

A part of this scared him. The business trusted him. He was well respected. From a young age he’d shown himself to be quick and witty, reliable and trustworthy. When someone came back with missing teammates, all blame was placed on the survivors. Jihoon couldn’t afford that. He would be treated like he was dead himself. But what choice did he have?

“Anyone goes missing for two weeks and people assume they’re dead. Why not let them? Live on the edge! Well, as edgy as this cute town...”

Jihoon snorted. “You’re telling me to live on the edge? You have no idea how I live. That’s real cute, Cheol.” 

“Okay, look,” the man sighed, apparently caring more than Jihoon had anticipated, “I have no idea who you are, where you come from, how you live, what you’ve been through and whatever else, but anyone can see that the way you’re living has traumatised you-”

Jihoon glared. “What right do you have to assume that about me?”

Seungcheol groaned. “You had a panic attack when you weren’t holding your gun.”

The younger shut up, defeated.

“Just stay for the winter, Jihoon,” Seungcheol pleaded, “tell your folks blizzards slowed you down. Let yourself heal from whatever it is that hurts.”

Jihoon almost started laughing, and that said a lot. “Who’s someone who used to write? Shakespeare? Carry on, Shakespeare.”

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol whined. “I mean it. There’s plenty of room for you. Just for the winter. No, a month. Give it a month. Please?”

All temptation was ignored by all types of fear from within. If he stayed, he would feel too safe. And that would only lead to being hurt, being betrayed, losing someone.

“Why would I listen to you?” Jihoon asked.

Seungcheol blinked. “I tend to listen to people who care about me.”

The boy scoffed. “You can’t care about someone you don’t know.”

Mingyu and Jeonghan chose to enter then. The pair of them looked at the other two with interest.

“He’s leaving town,” Seungcheol explained coolly. Jihoon could’ve sworn his voice broke. 

MIngyu’s eyes widened. He asked Jihoon to talk privately. Jihoon stepped outside with him, bag on his back and boots tightly laced. They walked for so long to get to somewhere quiet that Jihoon considered taking the safety off of his gun. Eventually they stopped along the outskirts by the fence. No one was in sight.

“Jihoon, I thought you were clever,” Mingyu hissed. “How the fuck are you going to hide your hand?”

Jihoon held it up. He wore the sleeve Mingyu made him, and he carried spares in his backpack.

“That will tear,” Mingyu said sternly. “Whoever you’re with will shoot you. Whoever sees that will shoot you. No one’s going to listen to you. No one’s going to believe you. That mark will get you killed.”

“I can look after myself,” Jihoon argued.

“Then how did you get bitten in the first place?” Snapped the doctor, “how did you get stabbed?”

This struck something within Jihoon. He wasn’t used to being spoken down to. He was respected back home - and now his survival skills were being questioned.

“I try my fucking best,” he snapped, “just like anyone else.”

Mingyu sighed. He turned away, rubbed his face and turned back around. 

“Everyone’s looking to work for a cure,” he said, “or a vaccine or whatever. I have connections. If you stay - if you want your life to mean something - I can easily put you down to help anyone we find who can engineer a vaccine. Otherwise, you’re lost forever. I get the feeling you don’t know any other doctors. Do you really want to waste your immunity?” 

Jihoon stared blankly. After everyone he knew that had died… if his immunity could mean something, anything… and Mingyu really was his only chance.

Plus a part of Jihoon knew he couldn’t handle the shame of returning home. Maybe Seungcheol was right. Maybe he should let himself be assumed dead.

“Fine,” he muttered. MIngyu looked more than relieved.

They walked back to the health centre, where Jeonghan and Seungcheol still were. Jeonghan sat packed too, finally ready to go to his home.

“I’ll stay for the winter,” Jihoon said to Seungcheol. The man smiled with relief.

“Where will you live?” He asked.

Jeonghan fiddled with his fingers. Well, what was left of them. “If you want, you can move into… into, uh…”

“Joshua’s,” Mingyu said gently. Jeonghan nodded. His hands shook. “If you go with Han to sort the place out, you can see if you like it.”

Jihoon agreed to this, although he wondered how Jeonghan would cope seeing Joshua’s home again if he couldn’t even say his name. That would be fun.

They left shortly after. Neither said anything, but anyone could see how much Jeonghan was dreading it. He’d put it off for over a week now. But Joshua’s family were no longer around, so this was up to Jeonghan. A tremor remained in his hands as he unlocked the door. Once open, it took him a long moment to be able to enter. Jihoon said nothing. He waited patiently. Finally, they stepped inside.

It was cosy. The place contained two rooms - one of which was the bathroom. A double bed sat beneath the window to the right. It had been left unmade. It was kind of haunting - the place looked so lived in but the owner would never come home. Dirty cups still sat around the open kitchen, and books were scattered on the coffee table in front of the sofa. One pair of shoes had been knocked over near the door. A sweater hung over a chair. Jeonghan picked this up and held it to his nose, closing his eyes as he did so. He looked half in pain, half peaceful. Jihoon meanwhile was distracted by the guitar in the corner. He dusted it off. Jeonghan put the sweater down and watched.

“Do you play?” He asked quietly.

Jihoon nodded. “Yeah. My dad taught me. Was Josh any good?”

“The best,” Jeonghan said with a small, forced smile, “he taught me everything he knew. Not that I’d be any good now.”

“I told you before, just play left handed.”

Jeonghan shrugged. “I suppose. You can have it anyway.”

Jihoon asked if he was sure a few times, then thanked him gratefully.

Jeonghan kneeled down by a chest of drawers. Joshua had quite a few shirts for a guy living post-apocalyptically. Slowly, each was pulled out one by one, unfolded, and then thrown to Jihoon to see if he liked any. This was followed by the few pairs of jeans Joshua had managed to get his hands on.

“You’re quite little so I don’t know if they’ll fit,” Jeonghan said, “but you can get a belt and roll them up. Jeans are harder to come by.” 

Jihoon nodded and held a pair up to himself. The waist would probably be good enough, at least.

“Thanks. Don’t call me little ever again.”

They silently agreed that Jihoon would move in. Together they refolded the clothes thrown at Jihoon and tucked them into the drawers. Jeonghan kept a few himself. It all smelled like Joshua. He had missed that scent.

The man cleared the desk in the corner of more books, shopping lists and poems. It took a while. He stroked the page, running his finger along every flick of the pen. His eyes scanned every word as he tried to stop tears from falling. He stuffed each sheet in an envelope.

“You can have his iPod,” Jeonghan said softly. “I hope you like his music. The pin’s 1004 but you can change it.”

He handed it over and Jihoon thanked him gratefully. The screen was a little cracked, but that didn’t matter. Jihoon held it in awe. He’d always wanted something to listen to music on. He wrapped the headphones around it and tucked it safely into his backpack. On second thought, he put it on the bedside table. It was his now, afterall. For the winter.

Jeonghan left the boy to his new home shortly after with two boxes of Joshua’s things. Once he’d made it to his own place, the poor thing sobbed for hours, letting it all out whilst holding a tshirt close. The boxes lay untouched for several weeks after that, a haunting memory of who Jeonghan had loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like rip josh but jeonghans different


	12. xi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i forgot abt this fic  
> ive gotta isolate bc covid so ill probably be more active again yeehaw   
> enjoy

Jihoon settled in and began working from home. He was still making clothes, but hoped for Mingyu to approve him for something more active soon like patrols. Right now, he was a bit of a hermit. Seungcheol had dropped off some groceries for him which meant that Jihoon hadn’t stepped outside for a week. He had, however, invested more into knitting and made some pretty sweaters and a few scarves. They were for toddlers, but still. At least the scarves were adult size.

Having not been left alone for weeks, Jihoon now felt a little bit lonely. His music collection gave him some nice background noise but he had surprisingly liked having someone to talk to lately. It was partially why he wanted to go on patrols. However, he only wanted to patrol with someone he knew and that was a slight issue.

Out of the four people he knew and almost trusted, only one was on patrols. Doctors weren’t allowed to in case they got killed themselves. Jeonghan was nowhere near ready after last time. And that left Seungcheol, who had only recently qualified and that was only just. So Jihoon decided to wait for him to improve so they could go out alone.

Jeonghan approached him a week later. The guy had thrown himself back into his usual business headfirst to provide a distraction. He found Jihoon taking a walk around the farms.

“Hey! Hoon!”

Jihoon looked over, spotted Jeonghan, and walked to where he was standing relaxed against the fence of a vegetable patch.

“Mingyu wants me to try patrol again,” he said, “and gave me his approval for you to join. It has to be one of the gentle ones for you, but I thought you’d appreciate the job.”

Jihoon nodded. “Yeah, sounds cool. Is Cheol coming?”

“Can do.”

“I’ll ask.”

Jeonghan smiled, “tell him it’s tomorrow morning. We can meet at yours at ten.”

Sure enough, a knock on the door greeted Jihoon at what was probably ten. He still couldn’t tell the time, but one of the hands of Joshua’s - no, his - clock was on the ten so simple logic brought him to the thrilling conclusion. He finished lacing his boots, threw on a hoodie and his backpack, and joined the pair outside. Seungcheol smiled oddly brightly at him.

“Hi,” Jihoon said somewhat stiffly.

“Heya,” Seungcheol beamed. “You ready?”

Jihoon nodded and the trio got going. Jeonghan led the way, frequently checking that the others were just behind, like he was nervous. Poor thing probably was. 

The route they were going on was a casual infected clearance, as Jeonghan called it. Seungcheol was getting used to them by now. They left the town through a large wooden gate around the back outskirts. They walked uphill from here through the woods. Sticking to an old overgrown road on the edges, the trio finally reached an opening. The edge was like a cliff, and it was a long way down. The road ended directly on the ledge. It had collapsed somewhere along the years and was now fenced off. Far opposite, on an almost equally raised stretch of land, broken down buildings formed what was left of a small, proper town, including a dirty gas station. Infected were dotted here and there - some wandering, some feasting on a dead animal.

Seungcheol took the rifle behind his back and positioned himself to aim, looking through the scope. Jeonghan did the same so Jihoon followed suit. It didn’t need explaining. 

Seungcheol shot first. Through the scope, Jihoon watched the bullet eat a whole through a runner’s leg. It fell to the ground, but squirmed with livelihood.

“Aim higher,” Jihoon said, “consider the drop. Go a little bit higher than it now.”

Seungcheol obeyed. Headshot.

“Nice,” Jihoon commented. 

The two kept shooting until each one was dead. Seungcheol got the hang of the drop and found his rhythm. Neither of them noticed Jeonghan until they put their guns down.

Jeonghan had sat down the second the bullet went through the first one. He sat on a log, staring blankly at the floor. The shot had sent images of Joshua rushing to his head. How he had screamed when the trespasser shot… how he begged Jeonghan to help… his usually sparkling eyes getting duller by the second…

“Han?” Seungcheol put his hand on his shoulder.

“I’m okay,” he breathed, “just… give me a minute.”

“Deep breaths,” Jihoon advised. “Do you want to go back?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “Nah. I-I need to pull myself together.”

Jihoon barely reacted but Seungcheol frowned. He didn’t say anything though. They waited for Jeonghan to feel better, which took several (patient) then followed him along the path.

They shot a few more stragglers and Jeonghan was fine this time. He managed one himself. It shook him a little, but nothing major. He didn’t manage to say much for a while though.

Their next point was a proper stop - a nicely sized cabin that turned out to be an old pub. Jeonghan opened the door. 

It must’ve been nice some twenty years ago. Emerald booths with oak tables must’ve glistened and very few seats would’ve been left empty. Now though, most stools were missing and most of the emerald leather was ripped. Pieces were scattered across the floor. The various drink taps ran no longer and not a single glass remained. 

“Where do we sign in?” Seungcheol asked.

“It’s round the back,” Jeonghan said. 

They walked through the seating area, jumped over the counter for convenience (Jihoon walked the long way) and Seungcheol opened the door. 

The pub was attached to a house, and this was the side door to said house. It was a run down hallway with peeling wallpaper. They went through another door to reach a living room. 

Seungcheol went first. He made a great example as he immediately tripped over a side table left at an angle. It fell over with great gusto onto the wooden flooring. A loud, ghastly croak followed.

A clicker pounced seemingly out of nowhere. Its hands grabbed Seungcheol’s shoulders and it leaned into his neck. Jihoon threw himself in the way, shoving Jeonghan back in the process. He wrestled the thing off of Seungcheol. He was weaker than a few months prior though, and struggled against the disgusting beast. Finally Jeonghan sent a bullet through its fungus-infested head. 

This gave Jihoon the chance to grab his own trusty gun to get the fuckers who remained. Seungcheol stuck to what he knew - stabbing one a few times in the neck and then beating up a runner. Jihoon and Jeonghan kept to the guns. Luckily there were only a few of each; nothing Jihoon hadn’t seen before, and the same went for Jeonghan. Seungcheol, however, looked a little shaken up.

“Are we all clean?” He asked breathlessly. The boys checked their limbs and ran their hands along their necks before all saying yes.

“All good,” Jeonghan confirmed.

Seungcheol nodded and took a few more deep breaths. “Jihoon, never do that again. You could’ve been bitten.”

“Better me than you,” Jihoon mumbled. He and Jeonghan exchanged a look.

They wandered through the rest of the house freely, convinced that the commotion of earlier would’ve attracted everything. At the (open) front door, a log book sat on a small table. Jeonghan kneeled down and grabbed the pen.

“Fuck’s sake,” he cursed, “last sign in was before Christmas. I was wondering how they got in.” He wrote in their names, date, and report of the clearance (or lack thereof) and then the three kept going. Jeonghan made sure every door was shut.

Jihoon was tired already. Having spent several weeks resting well, he now wasn’t used to the extensive distances he once travelled and the group had to slow down for him to keep up. Jeonghan jokingly put it down to Jihoon’s little legs and earned his very own scowl.

“We aren’t quite halfway yet, Hoon,” Jeonghan said, “you think you can manage?”

“Very much so.” 

The elder nodded. “Alright. I just don’t want Mingyu to kill me.”

Jihoon noticed that Jeonghan was much chirpier today - the last week, in fact. It was more worrying than if he buried himself beneath a blanket sobbing for a month. Like he was brushing the pain anyway. Jihoon knew from too much experience that it would all come back later - and it would hit harder, too. He didn’t say anything or offer any advice though. He left him to it.

The trail continued through an abandoned neighbourhood. Text reading ‘SHOOT ON SIGHT’ had been spray painted along the sides of many, but it meant nothing now that many had fallen down and every house was empty. They split up to check each one anyway, looting supplies as they did so.

There was one house in particular that Jihoon couldn’t help but linger in. It was obviously a family home, as shown by cracked photos still on the wall and faded drawings on the fridge. Jihoon traced the crayon with his finger before exploring upstairs.

The only room Jihoon entered was a little boy’s bedroom. Stickers of trains were peeling off of the pale blue walls, and robot toys and Lego men were scattered across the dirty carpet. The little bed was missing a duvet. This struck a chord. 

Jihoon shut his eyes and remembered his mother picking him up, holding him close as he snuggled his face into his blanket for comfort as she ran, following her husband’s lead to the safety of the car. HIs next memory was of an evacuation camp, and then at their flat in the quarantine zone. His blanket was the only thing Jihoon kept from home. 

Now he sat down on the bed, looking around the room. A chest of drawers had clearly been raided. It must’ve been a parent trying to stock up for their child. The toy box had been scavenged too - probably the same parent trying to make their baby happy, even if just for a moment. Faded dinosaurs lay on their sides on the window sill, picture books sat crumpled and half open, crayons had been broken in half and childish doodles remained on the walls. Jihoon took his time staring at every little piece of artwork until Seungcheol poked his head around the door.

“He’s in here,” Seungcheol called back, presumably to Jeonghan. Then he turned back to Jihoon. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Just resting.”

“You look sad.”

“That’s just my face.”

“Nah,” Seungcheol said, “your resting face looks furious. You looked sad.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Then maybe I’m two faced.” 

Jihoon stood up and left the room. Seungcheol followed him downstairs and back outside where Jeonghan was waiting, kicking the snow with the toe of his boot.

“All good?” He checked with a kind smile. Jihoon mumbled a yes and they set off away from the neighbourhood.

The next checkpoint was in the middle of a ruined town. They entered the remains of a cafe. Jeonghan signed them in, marking it as clear, then said this was a good rest stop for an hour. Jihoon was the first to take a seat. He closed his eyes.

An hour later, Seungcheol gently shook his shoulder. Jihoon jumped awake and grabbed his gun.

“It’s only me!” Seungcheol exclaimed, holding his hands up, “you’re alright. It’s time to go.”

Jihoon blinked a few times then nodded. He got up, ran his fingers through his hair, and followed Jeonghan out. They didn’t walk for long.

“Get down,” Jeonghan hissed, “trespassers.”

They split up and hid. Jihoon found a broken down car, crawled under, and peaked out from there. He counted three pairs of feet, walking in a group. Jihoon clicked the safety off of his gun. He was suddenly very aware of the footprints they’d left in the snow. The boy squirmed uncomfortably. 

Sudden footprints behind him made him jump.

“It’s only me,” Jeonghan whispered. His voice was shaking. “One of those guys is the one who shot…”

“Okay,” Jihoon quickly said to let him know he understood. “I thought you killed them all?”

“I didn’t say all.”

“Just stay calm. Don’t be irrational.”

“Hey, did you hear that?” An unfamiliar voice sounded out. “Split up.” They’d heard their whispers. Jihoon had to stop himself from swearing.

Jeonghan remained crouching behind the abandoned car. His hands shook violently and his breathing was rapid. If only he would breathe quieter.

Jihoon lost track of whoever was there. He was too afraid to reposition himself to look around. He listened out for Jeonghan’s movements instead, but Jeonghan had frozen.

Someone screamed.

Jihoon threw himself forward to the best of his ability in order to look out from beneath the car’s hood. One of the trespassers had Seungcheol in his grip, his hands tightly on his neck. Swiftly, Jihoon shot a bullet through the guy’s ankles. He fell, but he took Seungcheol with him and the two wrestled on the ground. Seungcheol was apparently weaker than he looked.

Jihoon wriggled out and ran. Bullets fired towards him and narrowly missed. He shot back, but mostly focused on getting to Seungcheol. 

“You have a fucking knife, Cheol,” Jihoon hissed before shooting the trespasser in the head. Seungcheol gasped for breath. Jihoon crouched down behind the (fairly thick) tree with him. “Stay here. Leave it to me and Jeonghan.”

JIhoon looked the tree up and down. It should be sturdy, he thought. He placed his foot on a burl and jumped to reach the nearby branch, allowing himself to scramble up and get a higher look. Once he had positioned himself on a thick branch that was as hidden as you could get in the winter, he aimed to shoot. From up here, Jihoon could see that Jeonghan had barely moved. Very helpful.

Jihoon was quick to kill the second trespasser. The guy was hiding too, of course, but Jihoon’s beady eyes caught him just as he peaked over the edge of the wall. He didn’t need to worry about the third guy.

Jeonghan finally pounced as the trespasser came near. It must’ve been who killed his lover because Jeonghan put up quite the fight. He punched him in the face and the stomach, kicked him between the legs then pulled out his shiv to stab him multiple times in the chest. Jihoon couldn’t quite see, but he was sure Jeonghan was crying as he did so. Then, as what was probably a strange flex, Jeonghan cut off the guy’s pinky and ring finger from his left hand. He finally stopped then. Jihoon jumped down from the tree.

“Cheol?” He said, “you good?”

Seungcheol’s face remained scarlet. He sat against the trunk, holding his neck and taking deep breaths.

“Yeah,” he managed hoarsely. “Is that all of them?”

Jihoon nodded. “Jeonghan got the last one. He was pretty brutal. You should’ve seen it.”

He held his hand out and Seungcheol took it. Jihoon pulled him up and the two walked over to where Jeonghan remained kneeling by the corpse. He was crying after all.

“Is that the one?” Jihoon asked. Jeonghan could only nod.

Seungcheol and Jihoon waited for him to calm down. Neither minded. Jihoon understood and Seungcheol needed to rest too. They’d have to take him to Mingyu for a check up once they returned.

It was about ten minutes until Jeonghan could bring himself to stand. Before he did though, he patted the dead guy’s pockets for weapons and ammo. Jihoon went and did the same to the others whilst Seungcheol sat down.

“They’re probably looking to ambush,” Jihoon pointed out, “since they came sniffing around twice.”

“I’ll have to tell the mayor when we get back,” Jeonghan said quietly with a sniff.

Since they’d now killed five of these people (two a few weeks ago by Jeonghan), they assumed there was a group of them. Some organisation. JIhoon suddenly felt oddly protective of the town. Afterall, they had taken him in with close to no question and nursed him back to health. It was a ray of light in this crumbling world. If anyone ambushed it, Jihoon would be ready to fight back.

The rest of the patrol went smoothly, even when they tackled a small group of runners. Seungcheol tried his best with them, although one of the other two had to jump in and help him out each time he got his hands on something. To be fair, Jeonghan could do with the distraction. They all rested for quite a while at the next (and luckily final) checkpoint. Seungcheol and Jeonghan both lay down, each incredibly shaken up. Jihoon was suddenly the only one who was stable, and even he was exhausted.

The sun was setting when they got back. The sky was crimson and faded to a delicate yellow. It was half pretty, half hellish.

“Take Seungcheol to Mingyu,” Jeonghan said to Jihoon, his voice still small, “I’m going to go talk to the mayor.”

Jihoon obeyed and strolled side by side with Seungcheol across the town. He didn’t really know where the health centre was from here, so they wandered around until one of them found something familiar and made their way from there. They made it before it got dark, at least.

Mingyu and Wonwoo were both in, going over some books. Jihoon assumed it was a lesson of some sort and apologised for interrupting.

“Trespassers tried to strangle Seungcheol,” he explained briefly. 

Mingyu jumped up and Seungcheol took a seat on what used to be Jihoon’s bed. He was carefully examined and winced each time Mingyu pressed on the quickly forming bruise. Whilst this was going on, Jihoon told Wonwoo about the patrol as a whole. Despite the consequences, Jihoon had enjoyed it.

“Not a great first time, I’d say,” Wonwoo said with a smile.

“I’ll sleep well tonight though,” Jihoon added. If he was normal he would’ve chuckled.

Finally Mingyu deemed Seungcheol to be okay, and told him to drink plenty of water and rest. His voice would return and his new cough would leave within a few days, Mingyu guessed. The bruising would take a little longer. 

Seungcheol pulled up his hood as he and Jihoon returned to the cold outside, where the dark had finally settled. 

“You can have the scarf I knitted if you like,” Jihoon offered. “To hide the bruise, I mean.”

“If you can spare it.”

“Do I look like a scarf person?”

Seungcheol smiled. “You don’t look like an anything person.”

Jihoon was glad to be home as he came through the door. Not that it felt like a home - it was still mostly a shell of Joshua’s life. He decided to rearrange the furniture tomorrow to try and make it more of his own. He flopped on his bed with a sigh. 

“Take whatever scarf you want, I don’t care,” he said. 

Seungcheol nodded, having spotted the small pile already. He looked through and picked up the navy and mustard striped one. It had a few loose stitches, but he didn’t complain. He didn’t feel the need to. Instead he smiled, pulled his hood down and tried it on.

“I feel very cute,” he said. Jihoon looked over.

“Does the job.”

Seungcheol grinned. He opened the curtains to see his reflection in the window. Cute enough.

“I’m going to grab dinner,” he said. “What do you want?”

Jihoon shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”

Seungcheol frowned, but he said okay and left. 

Jihoon grabbed his iPod, put on his headphones and hit shuffle. Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush came on and the boy fell asleep to her hauntingly beautiful voice. He was woken up soon after by the mildly terrifying tune that was Rasputin by Boney M. Then he lay half asleep wondering what the fuck Joshua was on when listening to any of this.

Seungcheol returned with fish and chips for both of them. Jihoon genuinely wasn’t hungry, but he ate as much as he could to be polite. After dinner, he flicked a film onto the TV mounted on the wall. This one was Titanic. Seungcheol bawled at the end. Jihoon, however, was frowning and insisting there was definitely room for two on the door. Seungcheol mumbled that it must be something about physics through tears.

It was still fairly early, but both of them were exhausted. Seungcheol was falling asleep.

“Take my bed, Cheol,” Jihoon offered.

“I’m okay on the couch.”

“Not with your neck. Get in or I’ll throw you in.”

The weird kindness shocked Seungcheol, plus he was too tired to argue, so he thanked him and climbed into Jihoon’s bed. He was fast asleep within a few minutes. Jihoon put his headphones in, and soon he dozed off curled up on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhhhh idk what to say  
> thanks for reading love u also follow my twt @24hwoozi bye


	13. xii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY LAPTOP BROKE IM SORRY  
> i have many chapters prewritten but i have to proof them before posting thats my pathetic excuse  
> ill try be more regular

Seungcheol’s eyes fluttered open and for a moment, he was confused as to where he was. It wasn’t until he saw Jihoon fast asleep next to him that he remembered. Wait… they shared a bed? Again?

Jihoon hadn’t slept for long on the couch, plus he’d woken up sore, so he’d climbed in next to Seungcheol. He had made a point to fall asleep on the very edge though.

The boy didn’t wake up until an hour after Seungcheol. Meanwhile, the elder watched the clock ticking. It was only 6am. 7 when Jihoon opened his eyes.

“Morning,” Seungcheol tried to say, but no sound came out. He coughed into his elbow and tried again. “Morning. Your hair looks great, by the way.”

Jihoon grunted. Relieved to have not woken up from a nightmare, he moved the small mirror on his bedside table to see himself. His hair was poking up in every direction. He tried his best to flatten it whilst Seungcheol insisted it was cute through (painful) laughter. In the end he had to leave it fairly messy and the pair got up.

Jeonghan stopped by shortly after. Once he’d laughed at Jihoon’s hair, he updated them on the feared ambush situation. The town was now preparing for it just in case. This included heightened security at all entrances and lookouts. Before Jihoon could offer to volunteer, Jeonghan revealed that he’d already asked Mingyu for him and he said no. He’d said no to all three of them. 

Jihoon suddenly wondered if Jeonghan felt any better for killing Joshua’s murderer. Most likely not. The guy looked like shit today. He acted happy enough, but his eyes were tired and his hair was almost as messy as Jihoon’s. It looked as though he hadn’t slept at all.

“How’s the neck, Cheol?” Jeonghan asked, “it looks painful.”

Seungcheol insisted it was fine, but Jeonghan was right. It did look painful. Dark purple bruises lined his neck and you could see exactly where someone’s fingernails had dug into his skin. He had lost some of his voice too. It ached constantly and hurt to swallow. Painkillers would be nice, but Mingyu saved them for the severely injured patients. This was relatively minor.

Jeonghan left the pair alone. The two then decided to visit their favourite cafe for breakfast. Seungcheol wore his new scarf with pride on the way there, then pulled his hood up as they walked in as an attempt to keep the bruising covered. He didn’t fancy getting asked about it.

“Sorry your first patrol was hectic,” Seungcheol said as they ate, “it was definitely the worst I’ve been on.”

Jihoon shrugged. “I’ve been through worse on my own.”

“Weren’t you scared?” Seungcheol asked, “do you really get used to that?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon said, like it obvious, “I’ve been shooting infected since I was twelve.”

Seungcheol was quiet for a moment whilst he prodded his bacon with his fork. “Thanks for saving my ass. Twice. But you should’ve left me to that clicker - I don’t want you getting bitten. Don’t hurt yourself for me. It’s not worth it.”

Jihoon blinked. He had no idea how to respond. “I don’t - death doesn’t… I’m not afraid of dying. But I bet you are.”

“Aren’t you afraid of being bitten?” Seungcheol asked.

Butterflies kicked Jihoon’s stomach. He looked away. “Just shoot me if I turn. It’s only death.”

For some reason, this annoyed Seungcheol. He should care about death. He had clearly gone through so much and Seungcheol felt like maybe it should make Jihoon feel more determined to survive - like he’d come so far, how could he stop now? 

“Oh, Cheol?” Jihoon piped up again, “your survival instincts are remarkably shocking. You know you could’ve stabbed that guy strangling you, right? Your knife was right there.”

Seungcheol raised his eyebrows, but he was only being playful. “I was focused more on my breathing.”

Jihoon began to question how he’d made it this far, but decided not to ask. It surprised him that he cared. He was concerned for him. That was why he saved his life twice.

Maybe it was how naive Seungcheol seemed to be. How he still believed there was good in the world. Jihoon hadn’t met someone like that for a long time. He found that he actually quite liked that about him. A part of Jihoon wished he could still relax, have some fun here and there. But many times he had tried to do just that and it had gone terribly wrong. He believed that Seungcheol was only cheerful because he hadn’t seen enough dark.

They went their own ways after breakfast. Jihoon went to check on Heather, considered taking her for a ride, then decided he was still too tired from yesterday and so he walked home. Here, Jihoon went through his usual routine of sewing, mending old things he’d collected and creating new before falling asleep in the evening.

Jihoon woke up to a siren. It sounded out loud and clear. For a moment he thought it was a part of a dream - after all, he’d heard a similar sound many times when he lived in the quarantine zone - until he remembered the ambush warning.

He jumped up and got dressed. He knew the siren was a lockdown siren, but he didn’t care. If his life was in danger, Jihoon wanted to protect himself. Not rely on others. He checked his ammo, reloading each of his two guns (rifle and a revolver, grabbed a knife he’d bought a few days ago and got going, keeping an eye out the whole time.

For some reason, Jihoon felt obligated to stop at Seungcheol’s. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, he worried about him now. He knocked on the door.

“Cheol, it’s just me,” he said, then added, “it’s Jihoon.”

It was Chan who opened the door after unlocking several bolts. He stared at him with wide eyes.

“Go home!” He hissed, “what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m checking on Seungcheol,” he said plainly.

Seungcheol appeared then. He was dressed too.

“Are you going out?” He questioned. Jihoon nodded. “Then I’m coming.”

Chan began to argue but Seungcheol took no notice. He grabbed his gun, buckled his knife around his leg and followed Jihoon out.

“Do you think Jeonghan’s out?” He asked quietly. Once again, Jihoon nodded.

“Considering he’s the one who collected us, I figured he’s important around here,” he explained, “so I’m guessing he’ll be out, yeah. Now shut up.”

All streetlights had been turned off so Jihoon risked the torch on his backpack strap. He held his gun out, very aware of the danger the light gave them. They would be seen before they saw anyone. The plan was to use it to momentarily blind any enemy - but also Jihoon didn’t want Seungcheol to fall and injure his neck further.

It wasn’t long before they could hear gunshots. The two crept low and stuck to the shadows, keeping their eyes peeled for anyone’s silhouette. Seungcheol’s heart was in his sore throat. Of course, Jihoon being more experienced, felt mostly okay. Although it was both worrying and reassuring that Seungcheol was with him; reassuring because he knew where he was and how he was doing, but worrying because it meant Jihoon may have a second body to protect. He didn’t even know why he cared so much.

The trespassers had found their way to the back entrance - they must’ve followed their tracks from the day prior. Seungcheol and Jihoon didn’t make it that far, though. They were quickly forced to hide in an alleyway. Jihoon slipped his foot onto the first window ledge he saw. He had no idea what the building actually was, but it didn’t matter. He scrambled onto the roof (it was one story) and crouched on the low slope. Seungcheol followed a little more sloppily. He wanted to tell Jihoon that he was like a cat, but the need to whisper currently rendered him mute and it wasn’t important anyway. 

Getting a higher look was a method favoured by Jihoon. Being on the shorter side, he naturally struggled to see over walls and cars more than others. But there was a negative to this - should the enemy look up, they were very, very obvious. He flicked his light off.

A bullet narrowly missed them. Seungcheol looked at Jihoon with silent panic, whilst Jihoon shot back. It took Seungcheol another minute to even see where anyone was. By this time Jihoon had crawled back, hiding beneath the pathetic cover that was the point of the roof itself. He occasionally peaked over, spotted movement, and shot. There wasn’t time to decipher whether it was a citizen or enemy. Seungcheol followed suit.

A thud made Seungcheol jump. He looked to his right and realised Jihoon had jumped across to the next building. He hadn’t had the smoothest landing, considering most of it was covered in snow, but it clearly did the trick. Seungcheol suddenly recognised the building as one of two daycares in the town. This building had a sign on top labelling it as that - and the sign, conveniently, was a section of the roof higher than the rest that formed a square. Flat on top. Jihoon scrambled on top of it and lay on his belly.

Seungcheol took a deep breath and jumped across too. He stuck behind the raised roof rather than lay on top. He didn’t want to get in his way. Shots continued to be fired from both sides and Seungcheol longed for Jihoon’s courage. 

It wasn’t that Jihoon wasn’t phased at all, he just wasn’t panicked. It wasn’t the first time he’d been raided. All it was was shooting a load of people. It was okay as long as you blocked the sirens out. He scanned the area and shot with his rifle until he couldn’t see any more movement across the streets.

“Okay,” Jihoon finally whispered, “I think it’s alright here.” 

Just as Jihoon climbed off the ledge, a hand grabbed his ankle and pulled. He lost his balance and although he tried to hold onto something (including Seungcheol’s hand) Jihoon tumbled off the edge and landed on his back. Luckily the snow cushioned his landing, but not enough to mean he wasn’t winded. It was finally melting, afterall. Jihoon barely got a chance to fight back before Seungcheol had thrown himself off after him. He grabbed hold of the trespasser and sliced open his neck. 

There was no time for Jihoon to catch his breath. They circled around the area. Clear.

“What now?” Seungcheol asked as quietly as he could.

“We keep moving.”

And so they walked forwards (after Jihoon tried to stretch his back out a bit), picking up bullets from the pockets of bodies they’d killed. It was lucky that Seungcheol was sociable and constantly out and about - a few guards raised a gun at Jihoon, saw who he was with, and lowered it.

The pair reached the end of the fence without any trouble, so they circled around the edge. Seungcheol stuck close to Jihoon. It annoyed the boy, but he didn’t say anything. Whatever kept him relaxed. Maybe it made them easy to sneak up on though.

Two separate people grabbed each of them; Seungcheol by the neck, Jihoon by the shoulders. Unlike the last time, Seungcheol reacted well and rammed his knife through their hand. Jihoon sliced through the arm of whoever had him, spun around and got the girl in the throat. Seungcheol got his attacker in the heart.

“Nice to see you can actually fight,” Jihoon teased. Seungcheol playfully scowled.

Suddenly a shadow ran towards them and Jihoon pounced, ramming his knife through their shoulder and twisted without looking at the face. Seungcheol managed to yell hoarsely.

“No! It’s Chan!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was terribly written but n e way  
> thanks for reading love u bye merry christmas also i had a birthday yeehaw bye


	14. xiii?? xiiv?????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wtf is 14 in roman numerals??? xiv?? whats 13 in roman numerals??? ill google and fix later in confusion  
> anyway woke up at 6 and proofed 3 chapters for no reason surprise

Jihoon looked the guy in the eyes and swore. He’d already taken the knife out. Chan was quick to take off his hoodie and hold it over, but he was weak already. It looked like Jihoon had popped his shoulder out of place. The boy held his arm protectively.

“Mingyu,” he choked out. Jihoon nodded and apologised over and over. 

Seungcheol put an arm around his roommate and they walked together, Chan whimpering as they did so and Jihoon keeping an eye out for enemies. He made note to look them in the eyes before he shot. How could he have been so stupid?

Guards stood in front of the health centre but they looked at Chan and let them in.

One of three beds was occupied. A girl had been shot in the arm. Mingyu was currently sitting with her as he wrapped a bandage over the stitched wound. She looked too pale for anyone’s liking. Blood loss sure was a bitch. Mingyu looked over now and his eyes widened. He finished the girl’s dressing in a hurry, promising her that she’ll be okay.

“What’s happened?” Mingyu asked worriedly.

“Jihoon stabbed him.”

“Why?!”

“I thought he was a trespasser!”

“Didn’t you look?”

“No!”

Mingyu lay Chan down. He asked Jihoon to get him some painkillers and a water bottle. As Jihoon did just that, the doctor spoke into his radio (presumably to Wonwoo) and told him only one more bed was available and any other injured would need to go to the town hall. Then his full attention was on the bleeding boy before him.

He cut Chan out of his shirt and used it to apply pressure until the bleeding stopped. Chan screamed in the meantime. Jihoon felt awful as Seungcheol held his friend’s hand and reassured him that he’d be okay. Once the blood had stopped pouring out, Mingyu found a clean part of the boy’s shirt, placed it in his mouth and suddenly apologised. Then he took Chan’s arm and moved the joint into place. The cloth muffled his screams, but not quite enough. He bit down hard and almost broke Seungcheol’s hand by squeezing it.

Now Mingyu addressed the wound. He cleaned it thoroughly, putting Chan in further pain. That was always something he found difficult with patients. Ignoring their cries. He wished he could comfort and treat at the same time, but he had to focus. He stitched the wound up (with difficulty and a “what the fuck did you do?” aimed at Jihoon), placed a dressing over it, then slipped Chan’s arm in a sling.

Ideally, they needed to get Chan some comfortable clothes from home but it wasn’t yet safe to. Sirens still blared from the speakers on the street. For now, they placed blankets over the injured boy to keep him warm.

Jihoon and Seungcheol weren’t allowed to leave again that night. Mingyu looked at Jihoon and then Jihoon’s hand as he said it. Jihoon understood. Couldn’t risk an immune person. It annoyed him all the same.

The raid was over within a few hours - the town killed each trespasser - but the lockdown remained in place for the whole day. Eventually, as the sun rose, Seungcheol was allowed to nip out to get Chan some things. He returned with pajamas, sweatpants, a few shirts and some books. Jihoon stayed by his side meanwhile. Somehow it felt rude to leave him after stabbing him. How could he make up for that in any way?

Luckily there was no need to use the town hall for any patients, so Wonwoo came in after sunrise. Mingyu greeted him with an exhausted smile and kiss.

“You’ll never guess what Jihoon did,” he said. Jihoon hid his head in his hands.

Ever the great reactor, Wonwoo had to stop himself from laughing. He covered his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he said, “that’s awful - I’m so sorry.” He turned away to hide his face. Chan glared, but then to Jihoon’s relief he smiled too. The boy felt like if he didn’t laugh he’d end up stabbing Jihoon back one day. 

“If there’s anything I can do, Chan,” Jihoon started, but didn’t know how to finish. Chan just nodded.

“I’ll let you know. You owe me many favours. Extra for it being my dominant arm.”

“And I’ll get through every one.”

It had to be the dominant arm, but Jihoon didn’t say that. Most people were right handed. Knock the right arm out of use and Jihoon stood a better chance in a fight. Afterall, Chan had come hurtling towards them. There was logic in his thinking, but not in his eyesight.

Jihoon and Seungcheol left at lunchtime. Since they ate out a lot, Seungcheol thought it’d be nice to eat in for a change and they went to Jihoon’s place. He made BLT sandwiches per Jihoon’s request. For once, Seungcheol didn’t try to chat as they ate. They were both too tired. So after they’d eaten, Jihoon fell asleep on the couch and Seungcheol napped on Jihoon’s bed. Perhaps they should’ve shared a bed for a third time, since Jihoon’s back had been aching from last night’s fall. He knew how to suck pain up though.

Jihoon woke up far later than Seungcheol. Whilst he waited, Seungcheol started doodling. He tried out a landscape this time - the view from their first stop shooting infected a few days ago. It was tough from memory but he was happy with it anyway. He debated lining it with his precious pen. He decided against it. It didn’t have a lot of ink and Seungcheol didn’t want to waste it.

Jihoon finally opened his eyes. It was with a start and he sat up in a haste. Seungcheol looked over.

“It’s okay,” he said gently, “you’re safe.”

Jihoon blinked a few times before nodding. He rubbed his eyes.

“How do you think Jeonghan is?” He said suddenly. “Didn’t Mingyu say he wasn’t on the radio last night?”

Seungcheol frowned and suggested they go check on him. Jihoon agreed. He didn’t know where he lived, although he knew it was a few houses away from his place. He just didn’t know which one exactly. Seungcheol did, though. 

It was seven doors down. He knocked on number 89 (Jihoon was 82) and faintly heard a small grunt. Seungcheol tried the door. It was open.

Jeonghan was in bed, staring expectantly at the door. He held a sweater in his arms that covered half of his face. His whole room was a mess - it clearly hadn’t been cleaned in a few weeks. Dirty clothes lay here and there. A smashed glass was on the kitchen floor. A bit of blood was left around it, but not enough to cause too much concern. It was a good sign that there were dishes about. It meant Jeonghan had eaten at least something.

The day prior, after updating Seungcheol and Jihoon on the town situation, Jeonghan had come back here and straight into bed. He’d hardly moved since. Even through the sirens, when he knew his job meant he had some responsibility to do his bit, he didn’t move. He didn’t care. It never occurred to him that he should.

“You good?” Jihoon asked plainly. No response.

Seungcheol’s eyes were round with concern. “I thought you were coping.”

Jihoon wondered if it was killing Joshua’s murderer that did it. Or maybe the raid of the murderer’s people. But Jihoon knew that sometimes no trigger was needed to dip without warning.

“Would it offend you if we cleaned up?” Jihoon asked. “Cope however you want, but I don’t think broken glass is going to help anything.”

Jeonghan blinked. “Whatever you like.”

Jihoon headed straight for the glass. He had nothing to sweep it up with so he used his hands to get it into the bin. That didn’t go so well for the little bits, but he sucked it up. He didn’t cut himself too deeply. Whilst he did this, Seungcheol folded up clothes and made a laundry pile. He told Jeonghan not to worry, that he’d wash it himself. Jeonghan thanked him but really he didn’t care either way. 

It didn’t take them long overall to clear everything. It was only a small cabin.

“What did you cut on the glass, by the way?” Jihoon questioned.

“Hand. It’s okay.” Jeonghan showed him as evidence. A thin line of dry blood ran along his palm.

“Have you cleaned it?”

“It’s fine.”

Jihoon sighed and exchanged looks with Seungcheol. The younger took Jeonghan’s arm and pulled, dragging him over to the sink. The sweater fell to the floor and Jeonghan whimpered. Seungcheol picked it up and lay it down on the bed. Jihoon meanwhile turned the tap on and ran Jeonghan’s injured hand under it. Although his gestures were kind, Jihoon wore a face of thunder. Seungcheol found it quite cute.

“You’ll feel better if you wear something fresh,” Jihoon said once he’d finished nursing Jeonghan’s cut. “I’ve noticed it’s always the little things that make it better.”

The kind words surprised Jeonghan. He blinked at the boy as he turned away.

“We’ll bring you some dinner later,” Seungcheol promised.

He walked down to the river with the washtub in the corner of the room to collect some water, then returned and started scrubbing Jeonghan’s clothes until his hands were raw. Jihoon took the simple job of keeping Jeonghan company meanwhile. He now sat on the sofa hugging his legs and staring blankly at the table. The sweater was back in his lap.

“By the way,” Jihoon spoke softly, “pretending to be happy will probably make you feel worse too. Let yourself feel whatever you’re feeling.”

“I’m glad I got to kill that son of a bitch,” Jeonghan said, mostly unprompted. He seemed pretty out of it.

“Mm. Valid.”

Soon Jeonghan’s damp laundry had been hung up on the wooden clothes horse to dry. Jihoon went out to fetch the three some dinner. Jun at the pub was growing a little concerned over how he and Seungcheol seemed to live on takeaway only.

“I appreciate the business,” he said with a laugh, “but you know you can cook, right? Might be healthier.” Jihoon took his paper wrapped food with a shrug. This was nicer than his cooking.

When he came back, Jeonghan and Seungcheol looked at him like they’d both just finished talking. Jihoon looked between the two suspiciously. 

“Sorry to interrupt?” He said with uncertainty.

“I was just telling him how we know each other,” Seungcheol insisted, “that’s all.”

Jihoon slowly nodded. “Okay. Well. Eat up.”

The boys did. They all ate silently with a tense atmosphere. The only time someone spoke was when they were nagging Jeonghan to eat a bit more. He didn’t take any notice and left half of it on the table. 

The pair decided to leave Jeonghan to whatever he was planning on doing once they’d eaten. Just as Jihoon went to shut the door, Jeonghan called him back. Privately. Jihoon raised his eyebrows.

“If you were worried that I told Seungcheol about your bite,” Jeonghan said quietly, “I didn’t. He was talking about how much he likes you.”

Jihoon blinked. Then he frowned. “Sounds fake.”

By some small miracle, Jeonghan smiled. “He said you’re nicer than you seem. And that he worries about you. And by the way, for what its worth, I don’t think telling him about your immunity would faze him in any way. That guy would trust a puppet. Especially when that puppet is you.”

Jihoon continued to frown with furrowed brows. Eventually he shook his head and walked out the door.

“All good?” Seungcheol asked.

Jihoon mumbled a yes. 

They went their separate ways once Jihoon had reached his door. He went straight to his desk, grabbed some fabric and a pattern and began making a dress for a toddler. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Seungcheol. He liked him? In what way? Admiration or a crush? Either way, what was there to like about him? Jihoon wasn’t likeable at all. He was cold and miserable, and he knew that. It was a little bit on purpose. He rarely showed any kindness. Saving Seungcheol was only because they were a team. 

But then Jihoon would be lying if he said he didn’t care about Seungcheol. He may not trust him just yet, but it didn’t mean that he despised his company. Jihoon was grateful for his visits when he was recovering. He missed him when he didn’t come. And the guy had looked after him after his panic attack, and given away his only weapon without any hesitation just so that Jihoon would feel safe. That meant more to Jihoon than he cared to admit. He wasn’t shown kindness often. Real kindness.

Maybe Jihoon was relieved that somehow, for some reason, in some way, Seungcheol liked him. He had never really had a friend before. 

But now Jihoon worried that he was getting too close. Already, if something happened to Seungcheol, he would be hurt too. In some ways, Jihoon was grateful that the town had been raided. Before, it had felt a little too secure. Like it was too good, and that must make it dishonest. The attempted raid had been a comfort. It was just like anywhere else. Possibly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uwu mental trauma idk  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	15. xiv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna be honest i glanced at this whilst i copy and pasted it and just cringed and refused to skim read like i usually do when i update so have this mess (dw its proofread at least)

Jihoon spent the morning after the raid picking fruit in a little basket for Chan - just a little something to make him feel a little better. Once plucked, Jihoon covered the fruit with a little cloth before walking down to the health centre. Mingyu stood outside with a cup of juice, watching the world go by. As Jihoon approached, he looked around and then spoke.

“You know you’re stupid, right?” He said.

Jihoon blinked. Then he looked at the door and sighed. “I know, I know, I should’ve looked-”

“No,” Mingyu shook his head. “You know what I meant.”

Jihoon sighed again, this time out of exasperation. “Mingyu-”

“You’re fucking immune, Jihoon,” the doctor said in a hushed voice, “do you realise what that means? You can’t run around like that and wait to be killed.”

“I’ve fended for myself since I was twelve years old. I can handle shit, okay?”

“That’s just luck,” Mingyu argued, “and it will run out. I bet that immunity’s taken up a great chunk of it.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Shield myself forever? Leave my life in other people’s hands? Why did you send me on patrols if it’s so risky for me to go out?”

“I sent you on a gentle patrol for a reason, Hoon! Trespassers are rare. I thought all you’d get was some infected and that obviously doesn’t matter for you. That’s why.”

Jihoon groaned. “You’re treating me like a child. It’s ridiculous.”

Mingyu glared at him. “Jihoon, flaunting your life like that is dangerous for the future of mankind.”

“But you’d have to be pretty damn lucky to just happen to know a doctor who could make a vaccine,” said Jihoon. That shut the doctor up. “In a world like this, you can’t have enough connections for something that big. Dream on, Mingyu.”

And with that, Jihoon pushed past and opened the door.

Chan was asleep. He was also now the only patient left. Jihoon took a seat and placed the fruit basket on the table. As soon as Mingyu came back in, Jihoon suddenly longed for Wonwoo to be there. It made the atmosphere in the room awkward.

Soon enough Chan woke up and smiled awkwardly at Jihoon. The two didn’t really know each other. Chan knew Jihoon’s horse better than he knew Jihoon. To him, he was just the guy Seungcheol was fond of. He didn’t really get it. The guy didn’t even look before he stabbed. 

Jihoon handed the basket over and helped steady it on Chan’s lap as he took the little cloth off and checked out the goods. It was mostly oranges and pears. He took out an orange.

“Can you help peel this for me?” He requested.

Jihoon took it and dug his nails in. He noticed that Chan didn’t even have any nails, even if his other arm was free.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Aches.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah.”

Jihoon finished peeling the orange and handed it back to Chan, who immediately struggled to pick it apart. Somehow Jihoon had never felt more useless. He took it back, pulled it apart, then handed back the pieces. Mingyu watched the whole affair. He had to try hard not to laugh from secondhand embarrassment.

“So, uh… how long are you out of work for?” Jihoon asked.

Chan blinked. “Just a little while.”

Jihoon nodded and fiddled with his fingers. 

Everyone’s head quickly turned as the door opened. Both Jihoon and Chan breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that it was Seungcheol. The man quickly got Chan chatting, trying his best to drag Jihoon in too, but to no avail. Jihoon desperately wanted to leave. 

“I think I’ll go check on Heather,” he said quietly. Seungcheol nodded and told him to have fun. 

Suddenly Jihoon felt rather lonely. Once he reached Heather, he decided to take her out. He sorted out her saddle and walked her out of the stables. Then he pulled himself up and she trotted out of the gates.

The snow had begun to melt and spots of green were now dotted about. A few rabbits merrily hopped across here and there. Already, as winter progressed, the area was beginning to look prettier.

Of course Jihoon had only left the town once since his arrival, so he didn’t know his way around. Heather galloped in circles with at least the fencing in sight so that Jihoon didn’t get lost. It was a refreshing break from his routine, and a chance to think. About Seungcheol, mainly. Jihoon sighed. Why couldn’t Jeonghan keep his mouth shut?

He hadn’t slept well the previous night because of this either. The words “Seungcheol likes you” repeated like a record. And when Jeonghan said that Seungcheol would trust anyone, but especially Jihoon… what did that mean? Jihoon groaned in frustration.

What if it was a crush? Did Jihoon mind? Did that make it awkward? Maybe no. Maybe Jihoon was flattered, actually. He’d never seen himself as likeable, let alone _likeable _. Then again, Jihoon couldn’t afford to be flattered. That was attachment. Everyone Jihoon had ever cared about had died. He didn’t want to go through that again. He had had more than enough. Hell, he’d even lost the sweet little boy he had to smuggle.__

__Jihoon winced. Images flashed in his mind. Screaming. He curled into Heather’s back as his breathing grew rapid. Croaks of clickers sounded deep within his ears and the world grew dark. Runners yelled. They chased him and clawed at him whilst a little boy’s voice called out in pain. So much pain. He had so much of his life left. And Jihoon let him die. He screamed at the top of his lungs. Then something threw him backwards and he fell with a thud to the ground._ _

__After what felt like eternity, it faded to black. Jihoon was suddenly cold. He opened his eyes. He was lying in the snow. Heather stood a few metres away, indifferent to the situation. Standing even closer was Wonwoo. He knelt down with eyes full of concern and rested his hand on his back._ _

__“Hoon? It’s okay,” he said, “it’s just me. You’re safe.”_ _

__Wonwoo had been guarding a gate nearby when he heard Jihoon’s screams and came running. He had been with him for a few minutes now, waiting for reality to return to him. It wasn’t the first time Wonwoo had seen someone in his state, but it was the first time that only he was around for comfort. He tried his best anyway. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to._ _

__Jihoon was too stunned to even acknowledge how vulnerable he seemed right now. How weak he was. Wonwoo waited for him to catch his breath, then helped him to stand. He took Heather’s reins and walked Jihoon back himself. They dropped Heather off together and then he ensured Jihoon got home safely. Neither spoke a word. Wonwoo didn’t know what to say when he knew that Jihoon would never discuss what was going on in his head._ _

__“Do you want me to grab Seungcheol?” He asked kindly, “or I can stay with you if you like.”_ _

__Jihoon hesitated to respond. He fiddled with the key in his hand. Wonwoo decided for him._ _

__“I’ll stay,” he said, “I don’t want you on your own just yet, okay?”_ _

__“Okay.”_ _

__Jihoon managed to open the door, despite his trembling hands, and the two slipped inside. He settled down on the couch whilst Wonwoo fetched him a glass of water. He sipped it gratefully._ _

__“Was it PTSD?” Wonwoo asked hesitantly._ _

__Jihoon was quick to shut him off. “I’m not talking about it.”_ _

__“Jihoon-”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__Jihoon’s best remedy was distraction. Talking about it would bring back the memories. Anyway, he barely knew Wonwoo. Why would he discuss what was going on in his head with him?_ _

__His friend sighed. “I just want to help you, okay?”_ _

__“Then just shut up,” Jihoon mumbled. He got up only to flop on his bed with a sigh._ _

__Wonwoo stuck around until Seungcheol swung by. He told Jihoon that he was glad he felt better before leaving. It earned a funny look from Seungcheol._ _

__“You were ill?” He asked._ _

__Jihoon shrugged. “Must’ve eaten too fast.”_ _

__Seungcheol didn’t look convinced, but he knew better than to argue. Instead he offered to make him various remedies, which of course Jihoon declined._ _

__Seungcheol stood about with no idea what to do with himself. He was a little desperate to be with Jihoon for an inexplicable reason. He just felt the need to be with him. He looked around for a conversation point. His eyes found the guitar that leaned against the wall. It was mostly black, with some of the paint peeling off. It was a little dusty, but other than this it was in a pretty good condition._ _

__“You play guitar?”_ _

__Jihoon looked over. “Yeah.”_ _

__“Do you sing too?”_ _

__“...I wouldn’t say I’m unbearable to listen to, I guess.”_ _

__Seungcheol smiled. “Can you sing for me? Please?”_ _

__“Fuck off.”_ _

__Seungcheol began to laugh and then he whined. “Please? Please, Hoon, I’d do anything… you’re so boring! Please? Can you at least teach me?”_ _

__Jihoon raised an eyebrow as Seungcheol kept begging. He chose to ignore him in the end and started knitting. Eventually Seungcheol found it funny again. Jihoon tried not to get flustered. The guy had a cute laugh and he was pleased that Seungcheol found him amusing. He was honoured, actually._ _

__Jihoon hadn’t even touched the guitar yet; it felt strange to. It was one of the few parts of Joshua left in this place. His photos had been taken down and his clothes now hung on Jihoon’s skinny frame, already smelling of him instead. The guitar was exactly where Joshua had left it. For that reason, Jihoon didn’t really want to move it yet._ _

__But as soon as Seungcheol had gone home (after dinner and a movie), Jihoon felt a pull to it. He had loved playing in the past. He considered it his one true talent and took pride in the songs he could play._ _

__Jihoon walked over and hovered his hand over it. It trembled. He closed his eyes._ _

__Then finally, Jihoon took the neck of it and carried it to his bed. He sat down and positioned it. The instrument needed re-tuning, but that was fine. The boy was more than capable of doing it by ear. Soon it was ready to go._ _

__He barely had to think about it. His fingers played naturally, like Jihoon had never put it down. He plucked at the strings delicately and a pretty tune ran out through the usually silent place. It was an acoustic rendition of Genesis’ In Too Deep. It reminded him of his dad. It was his favourite. Usually thinking of his parents made him feel like he’d been ripped apart, but this was soothing. Almost healing._ _

__He had just gotten halfway through the second chorus when his front door opened._ _

__“Hey, I left my-” Seungcheol suddenly noticed exactly what Jihoon was doing. He smiled fondly. “What are you playing?”_ _

__The guy’s smile caught Jihoon off guard. Why was he looking at him so sweetly? Jihoon’s cheeks burned._ _

__“It’s nothing,” he said quietly, “what’d you forget?”_ _

__Seungcheol blinked a couple of times. “My key.”_ _

__Jihoon nodded and Seungcheol grabbed his key from the table. He stared at Jihoon for a moment, longing for him to play something. The guitarist refused to make eye contact. He chose to look at the floor whilst his face still burned scarlet._ _

__“I bet you’re very talented,” Seungcheol said._ _

__“Thank you?”_ _

__Seungcheol smiled again and Jihoon’s chest pounded. He tugged his ear. Why was he getting flustered? Did it really mean a lot to him that Seungcheol thought anything of it?_ _

__A part of Jihoon believed it was just because no one really noticed him back “home”. Respectable, yes, but that meant people ignored you. If they trusted you, then you wouldn’t need checking up on. It had been a long time since he’d actually impressed someone. And now that Seungcheol liked him… it hit hard._ _

__Jihoon hated it._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what was that? dunno. didnt read it  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	16. xv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i started this fic like yeah i know roman numerals and now im desperately googling "20 in roman numerals"

Jihoon was bored. So bored. Now that Chan was home, Seungcheol kept him company. Chan had reassured Jihoon that he didn’t have to see him everyday to show that he was sorry, which they both knew was a polite way of saying it was too awkward when he did so, and now Jihoon had nothing to do. Jeonghan was back to whatever his job even was and pretending everything was fine. Jihoon tried to volunteer at the health centre, but nothing was going on. There were only so many articles of clothing Jihoon could make until he went insane. He didn’t even dare take Heather out. He didn’t want another episode where someone would find him weak and scared. Jihoon had even checked out the noticeboard near the edge of town, but nothing appealed to him. For a second, he had considered helping out at the daycare until he remembered how much kids annoyed him, overwhelmed him, or reminded him of Xiyan. 

Being a smuggler was a fast paced way of life. Jihoon was more than used to hopping around everywhere. The longest he had stayed anywhere was a week. This town had been fine at first, since most activities put him in agony and he only wanted to lie down, but now that he was healed… Jihoon was getting restless. He wished desperately that Mingyu would let him on patrol. Proper patrols. The clearing out infected from miles away was boring without the trespassers in between. He wondered about helping out with gun training, but Mingyu would probably stop him from that too. They didn’t want Jihoon to shoot himself by mistake or some other bullshit. He more than understood the importance of his immunity, but a) he knew how not to die, and b) it was more likely delayed turning anyway.

Jihoon ended up at Chan and Seungcheol’s, despite the awkwardness with the former. He hadn’t seen Seungcheol in a few days and it felt weird. Not that he was missing him or anything. He knocked and then entered.

The roommates were both sitting at their table. Chan was completing a puzzle. Seungcheol was drawing. He looked up, saw Jihoon and slammed it shut.

“What are you up to?” Jihoon asked as casually as he could.

“Nothing,” Seungcheol said with scarlet ears, “it’s just some drawings. They’re embarrassing.”

Jihoon spoke softly. “Let me see.”

“...you didn’t play for me, so why should I let you see my art?”

Jihoon pouted and tilted his head. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile. The boy looked very sweet all of a sudden. Chan suspiciously looked between the two.

The ex-smuggler walked over and Seungcheol’s instincts were too slow (and a little stupid). Jihoon grabbed his sketchbook and opened it up with curiosity.

It was him. Seungcheol had been sketching him. It was a double page of headshots, each of Jihoon. And they weren’t half bad actually - especially considering he had no reference. His nose was a little off in the side profile sketch, but Jihoon felt like his nose wasn’t particularly easy to get right so he let him off. Seungcheol had even added the freckle by his eye. In some of them, anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, “it’s creepy of me, I’m-”

“I think you’ve maybe drawn my eyebrows a little too sharp,” Jihoon said. His tone was almost soft. “You’ve nailed my top lip though. You’re, uh… very talented, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol mumbled a thank you, refusing to make eye contact. Meanwhile Chan silently moved into his room. The art subject continued to flick through the sketchbook. There were a few more of him. Then there were places they saw on patrol, and where Jihoon assumed Seungcheol had seen on other patrols or something. Then there was some kind of creature. It was fat with stumpy legs, a sweet tail with a tuft of fur on the end, an incredibly long nose and some tusks.

“What the fuck is this?” Jihoon asked. He showed Seungcheol the page.

“Is it that bad?” The artist scratched the back of his neck. “It’s an elephant.”

“An ele-what?”

Seungcheol blinked. “An elephant. Don’t you… know what elephants are?”

Jihoon shook his head. He looked back at the drawing in bewilderment. Seungcheol explained that he remembered seeing them in various baby books, both shown when he was little and recently as he cut through libraries and kid’s rooms. Jihoon hadn’t had any books when he was a child. His mother wrote her own for him, but usually they were about pre-infection daily life such as going to school. Never animals.

Jihoon sat down beside his friend and Seungcheol began listing various creatures off the top of his head. Giraffes, zebras, penguins, flamingos, peacocks, lions, tigers. Jihoon had only heard of one or two from everyday sayings, but he’d never seen a picture of any of them. Seungcheol got to drawing. He longed for colour pencils to give them life. Instead he described each animal’s colour as he drew. Jihoon pictured them vividly. Once each sketch was done, Seungcheol wrote its species name beneath them. ‘Elephant’ and ‘giraffe’ were the most surprising to Jihoon. He was thinking ‘ellyfunt’ and ‘jerrarf’.

“I like elephants the most,” he decided.

Seungcheol smiled. “Me too. One day, I’ll raid a bookstore for you and you can see all the different types of penguins and other animals-”

“There’s more penguins?”

Seungcheol nodded with another pretty smile. He added some flicks above his penguin drawing’s eyes. “That’s a rockhopper now. Then you got these big ones with yellow at the top of the white of their tummies - those are emperor and they’re the biggest. Over a metre tall. The others are usually maybe half a metre, I think…”

Jihoon absorbed the information with wide eyes. Seungcheol ripped out the pages and handed them over to him, who would later pin them to his wall.

“So, can you sing for me later?” Seungcheol requested, “in return for the animal knowledge?”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

That was enough to make Seungcheol beam. As a result, Jihoon’s heart fluttered. He almost smiled too. The elder didn’t miss the slight spark in his eyes.

“You know,” Seungcheol said softly, “I get lonely when you’re not around.”

Jihoon went bright red. How do you react to that, especially when you feel the same way? He had no idea. Instead he nodded and looked at the floor.

“Me too,” he spoke so quietly that Seungcheol only just heard him. The murmur was enough for him. It made his day.

Chan chose that exact moment to need a glass of water. Whenever Jihoon was around, he always seemed to be looking between the two with curious eyes. Each of them avoided his gaze. It made Jihoon feel funny.

“I’d better go,” Jihoon said delicately. 

“Okay. Should - do you - shall I -”

Jihoon blinked. “Spit it out, Cheol.”

“Can I, uh… walk you home?” Seungcheol asked with wide eyes, like he was begging for more time with him. Jihoon’s chest felt lighter but he kept his fierce look.

“If you want,” he replied in monotone. But he hoped that Seungcheol understood his appreciation anyway.

The two walked in silence. It was nice. Jihoon liked that he felt comfortable like this now, but at the same time, it terrified him. He was already trusting him too much, he was sure. What if it was a trap? What if Seungcheol wanted something from him? Jihoon fiddled with his fingers. Seungcheol noticed and asked if he was okay, and Jihoon couldn’t respond. He was trying to figure out whether his concern was genuine or fake. He couldn’t tell anymore. 

They made it to Jihoon’s door and Seungcheol hovered. The younger held sheets of paper to his chest.

“Thanks for the animals,” he said.

Seungcheol grinned. “I’ll test you on them next time.”

Jihoon promised to do some homework, said goodbye, and unlocked his door. It was cold in there. He got the fire going after tucking a chair beneath his door handle. It could only be locked with a key (meaning anyone could enter) and Jihoon hated that. Once he had warmed up a little and felt safe, he pinned the paper on his wall before having a small guitar session.

He was beginning to get over the guitar being Joshua’s now. In an apocalypse, everything had a previous owner and the nostalgic ones just had to get over it. But sometimes, it caught up to him. Maybe it was that Jeonghan used to play this too, and the look on his face when he realised he couldn’t play as he once did. Jihoon was too selfish to part with the guitar. It was his only hobby and he’d missed it so much. Despite this, he wished he could give one to Jeonghan stringed backwards so he could play left-handed. 

Speak of the devil. Someone knocked on the door and introduced himself as Jeonghan. Jihoon leaned the guitar against his bed before answering. He removed the chair, opened the door ever so slightly, then peaked out. He looked Jeonghan up and down before letting him in.

“Just… after some company,” Jeonghan said, “and the type that - no offence - won’t take much notice of me.”

Jihoon almost chuckled. “Yeah. I’ve been told I’m good at that.”

Jeonghan quickly caught eye of the instrument by Jihoon’s bed. Jihoon couldn’t tell if he was okay or not. That was the thing with Jeonghan, Jihoon noticed: around anyone else, he seemed relatively cheerful, and let himself laugh and smile. But with Jihoon, it was like he took the mask off. Maybe because he knew Jihoon was perhaps more shattered than he was.

“Have you been playing a lot?” He asked. The younger blinked before realising what he was on about.

“Uh… for the last few days, yeah.”

Jeonghan nodded. “You should play for Seungcheol. He whined that you wouldn’t.”

Although Jihoon sighed, he liked that Seungcheol spoke about him when he wasn’t around. Usually someone discussing him behind his back was about whatever job he’d been on. It was like Jihoon had become someone rather than something. 

For a while, neither said anything. Jihoon tucked the guitar back on its stand and moved to his sewing. Jeonghan lay on the bed, staring at the animals on the wall. The penguin was new. He quite liked the funky fella. He had some fantastic eyebrows.

“Did you draw these?”

“Hm?” Jihoon looked over, “oh, no. Seungcheol was teaching me about them.”

Jeonghan smiled, just a little bit. “That’s real cute. You can’t tell the time, right? Ask him to teach you that too.”

“Why?”

“...to spend time together. He likes you, Hoon, keep up-”

“Shut it,” Jihoon snapped. 

Jeonghan blinked a couple of times. Then he frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with affection, Hoon.”

Jihoon continued to scowl and swore when the needle pricked his thumb. He sewed swiftly and angrily from then on. Maybe if Jeonghan was mentally stable he would have inquired a little more, asked why Seungcheol’s affection was so bad, but for now he just watched him fix a jacket’s shoulder with some amusement. 

“How’s the hand?” He asked next.

“Fine,” Jihoon muttered. Then he added, “yours?”

“I’m getting used to it.”

Suddenly Jihoon sighed and threw the jacket down. He stared at the wall with his signature glare. His fingers tapped the table with almost a tune. He was thinking so hard that Jeonghan half expected to see steam come out of his ears. 

“What kind of ‘like’ do you mean?” Jihoon finally asked.

Jeonghan started laughing. He found it really cute. “He has a crush on you, Jihoon.”

Jihoon blinked. “Why?”

“Maybe he has a scowling kink, I don’t know. I think he just… thinks you’re cool.”

The boy’s scowl had turned to confusion. Of course, he had considered (maybe worried was a better word) that possibly this was the case. But now that it was confirmed, he was more baffled than ever. He was an asshole. He knew that. He never smiled, nor did he make much conversation. He was judgemental and mostly apathetic. It was very clear that Jihoon didn’t trust anyone to even touch him. A gun glued to his hand didn’t strike any friendliness. What the fuck could anyone see in him?

Whilst these thoughts ran through Jihoon’s mind, Seungcheol sat on a bench with a small, soft smile. He was thinking of Jihoon. 

The look of the boy’s face today as Seungcheol talked him through various animals… it made his heart swell. It was the most emotion Jihoon had ever shown, and he burst with happiness that it was him who did it. His eyes almost lit up. 

Seungcheol thought that Jihoon was sweet, really. He was eager to learn about everything - it didn’t surprise him that he could sew neatly and play the guitar, on top of his near-perfect gunshot aim and knack with a knife. He may not trust him, but he did save Seungcheol’s life twice. It was a side of Jihoon he never thought he’d see. A protective side. And Jeonghan had struggled too - yet Jihoon had looked the other way. His nimbleness triggered some admiration within Seungcheol. He didn’t fuck around. He knew exactly what he was doing with no hesitation, something Seungcheol had yet to pick up on. And yeah, he had stabbed Chan, but Seungcheol understood that it was a misunderstanding and had begun to find it quite funny. Jihoon had been good on the way to the medical centre too. 

Of course, Seungcheol saw Jihoon’s flaws, and he didn’t mind at all. Jihoon wasn’t going out of his way to be horrid. He was only protecting himself. And Seungcheol was more than happy to be by his side as Jihoon possibly healed, or ventured through whatever went on in his head. He just wanted to be with him through anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funfact ive been writing ch31 for a month or two now. this one just will not write. also if taylor swifts evermore came out earlier this fic wouldve been heavily based on cowboy like me i bet  
> anyway thanks for reading love u bye happy new year


	17. xvi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im making up roman numerals as i go now  
> also sorry im bad at replying to comments idk what to say but they make me so happy n i appreciate them so much ily have fun reading whatever this is idk if i forgot

Jihoon hovered by Seungcheol’s door, hand poised in the air like he was hit by Medusa before he could knock. For some reason, he couldn’t do it. His stomach was filled with butterflies. It wasn’t that he was afraid it would be awkward - he was a little bit flattered - it was just… well, actually, he didn’t know. Finally Jihoon knocked, albeit very stiffly. Then he entered. 

“Hi,” Seungcheol beamed. Chan smiled too, although considerably smaller. Jihoon noticed it more now.

“I’ll go on a walk,” Chan said, “look to the horses and such. Have fun.”

And Chan left. Jihoon stared at the door.

“What was that?” He asked. “What does “have fun” mean?”

Seungcheol went bright red. “He’s weird, I don’t know.”

Jihoon tried to act casual, but he didn’t know how when it came to anything involving a bit of romance. All romance scared him. He had actually thought he was aromantic, but a part of him was beginning to question that. Maybe he had just wanted to be aromantic, to make everything easier. Jihoon shrugged it off. That was a worry for the next time he found himself awake at 3am. He fiddled with his hands.

“How’s Chan’s shoulder?” He asked stiffly.

“Mmm, I think it’s a bit sore still,” Seungcheol said, “but it’s usable. He’s happier now.”

“And, uh, your neck?”

“Much better, thanks. How’s your hand?”

Jihoon blinked, a little startled. His hand? What was he asking about his hand for? Had Jeonghan said something else? It began to itch as he worried about it.

“What about it?” Jihoon questioned.

His friend frowned with confusion. “Isn’t it still a bit fucked? Why else is it bandaged?”

Jihoon breathed a deep sigh of relief. Of course that’s what it was. “Well, that dog’s bite left a scar, and some people are idiots and might shoot me for it. Plus it’s just really ugly.”

“This is ugly,” Seungcheol said, pointing to the bold scar on his cheek. Jihoon almost laughed.

“Nah. Adds character. It makes you look more intimidating than you are. Good for enemies.”

Seungcheol shook his head. He hated it with a passion. Of course, he realised that there were far bigger things to worry about, but when he caught his reflection he always focused on the pink line running across his cheek. It had been a nightmare to heal. He could barely talk whilst the stitches were in and the insecurity never left.

Jihoon was still staring at it. “I think scars are cool,” he assured him, “just not when it’s teeth marks. I don’t like teeth.”

Seungcheol smiled and thanked him. Jihoon finally sat down, shrugging off his backpack and jacket and settling opposite Seungcheol at the table. He was drawing again. This time it was a rabbit study; an animal Jihoon was familiar with.

“You must have loads of scars,” Seungcheol said thoughtfully. “You seem like you’ve been running about for a while.”

Jihoon nodded. “Stab mark, obviously… one from when someone sliced open my leg… loads of little ones from cuts and scratches, of course.” He held his hands out for Seungcheol to see. Little white lines were dotted here and there. “I got shot by an arrow in my collarbone once, so that’s a cool scar. Uh… nothing else is particularly notable.”

In turn, Seungcheol mentioned his few. He just had another slice on his arm, and had once been stabbed in the foot. Jihoon commented that it sounded fun.

He watched Seungcheol draw for a bit. He was very talented. His pencil brushed the page in what seemed like random strokes, but it all shaped together in the end to create a greatly detailed and beautifully shaded bunny rabbit. It must’ve taken a lot of practice - especially from memory. Jihoon was envious. He hadn’t picked up any artistic traits from his mother. Seungcheol noticed him staring and blushed.

“I’ll fuck up if you keep watching so closely,” he warned, “and I don’t have an eraser.”

“Coward.”

“Thanks,” Seungcheol laughed. 

Jihoon got out of his face, having realised how closely he was leaning forwards. He sat all the way back and slumped against the chair for a moment. The only sound was the clock ticking.

“Can you tell the time?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you teach me?”

Seungcheol looked up. He chuckled. “You don’t know what animals are or how to read a clock?”

It was Jihoon’s turn to blush as he muttered a “maybe”. 

Seungcheol never directly said yes, but he did leave his rabbit where it was and turned to a new page. He started drawing a large circle, dotting numbers about it. Then he pulled out another page, drew two arrows (one smaller than the other) before using his knife to cut them out. Jihoon watched with fascination. He invited Jihoon to sit next to them so neither was reading upside down.

“So this arrow, the little arrow, that’s the hour. The big one is the minutes, which goes five by five, okay?”

Jihoon blinked. “Sure.”

“So this is three o’clock. Six o’clock. Nine o’clock. What’s that?”

The arrows sat above and below each other, forming one long line, and Jihoon’s eyes widened. 

“That’s a fucking bitch, that’s what it is. That’s ‘let’s fuck with Jihoon’.”

Seungcheol laughed, but it was more with him than at him. “That’s twelve o’clock, Hoon.”

Jihoon furrowed his eyebrows as Seungcheol took him through more times. He left Jihoon to fiddle with it whilst he started sketching every combination he could think of, listing what it read below it. Jihoon took the sheets with great confusion.

“Did your parents not teach you much?” Seungcheol asked. Somehow it didn’t feel judgemental when it came from him.

Jihoon shook his head. “I did basic maths and such. And how to read and write. But I guess they felt some things weren’t necessary anymore. Or they just forgot.”

Seungcheol nodded. He suddenly looked a little sad. His hands started fiddling with his pencils as Jihoon watched, feeling the closest he’d been to concern in years.

“Did you find it hard?” Seungcheol asked, “leaving your parents, I mean.”

Jihoon shrugged. “They died when I was twelve. I had no one to leave.”

“Oh, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be,” Jihoon said quickly, “I don’t care. You rant. You’re the sad one.”

Seungcheol smiled and shook his head. He turned back to his rabbit. Jihoon frowned and wondered how you comfort people. He didn’t even know how to comfort Jeonghan. He just… _did _. Only that worked. This time he patted Seungcheol’s arm and it felt awkward for both of them. It worked, though. Seungcheol burst into laughter.__

__“You’re very sweet, Hoon,” he said._ _

__Jihoon blinked. “I could kill you in a second.”_ _

__“I know. Get back to your clocks.”_ _

__Jihoon huffed and stared at the page. “Time is stupid.”_ _

__Seungcheol got lost in thoughts whilst Jihoon glared at his piece of paper._ _

__Any mention of parents brought Seungcheol down. He was very close to his - a classic mummy’s boy, and always appreciated talks with his father. Now, almost a year since he’d seen them, he didn’t even know if they were alive. What if they’d gone looking for him? He hadn’t left a note. And he regretted it everyday. He did prefer whatever this was to the QZ, though. That was an easy choice. Plus, Jihoon was here._ _

__“Should we go out for dinner?” Seungcheol piped up._ _

__“It’s… wait,” Jihoon stared at the clock on the wall, then rummaged through his sheets. “It’s three o’clock.”_ _

__“Quarter past,” Seungcheol kindly corrected him, “but I meant later, obviously. Say half five?”_ _

__Jihoon nodded. The idea of it being a date bypassed him completely. He didn’t actually know what a date was. It had never been brought up. Seungcheol’s mother, however, loved to gush to him and his brother about the dates their father had taken her on and Seungcheol had always wanted to go on a proper date._ _

__Chan came home at what Jihoon determined was 4 o’clock, but was probably off, said his hellos and retreated to his room. For a moment, this baffled Jihoon. Then he realised exactly why he would be giving the two some space and burned bright red. He still didn’t know what to make of it all. Without a doubt, he was leaving himself vulnerable. But then it came back to flattery - no one had truly cared about Jihoon before. He was just someone good for business. Now he was, well, someone. He was just Jihoon to Seungcheol. And somehow Seungcheol liked just Jihoon. Maybe it was okay to enjoy that feeling for just a little while._ _

__The pair walked to their usual pub for dinner. Not much snow remained in the early February days, and they now trod on stone paths rather than white blankets. It was a shock to the ankles, but they got used to it. Plus Jihoon got to admire how sturdy his boots really were. He was still in love with them. And Seungcheol was still in love with his embroidered jacket - he wore it proudly now._ _

__Seungcheol smiled at Jun behind the bar and Jihoon greeted him with a nod, which was a mark of progress in the ‘Friendliness Chart’, as Seungcheol silently noted. He pulled out the chair for a boy. Jihoon was a little startled but sat down. He fiddled with his hands yet again._ _

__“Why are you so nervous?” Seungcheol asked gently. His kind eyes stared with concern._ _

__Jihoon contemplated talking to him about this crush. Ask if it was true. But what if it turned Seungcheol away from him? What if it made him awkward? Jihoon didn’t want to lose any part of Seungcheol. He enjoyed his company and seeing his face each day. Although he hated to admit it, he missed Seungcheol when he wasn’t around._ _

__A horrible thought entered his mind. Was this a crush? He pulled his finger so hard it almost came out of its socket._ _

__“Hey,” Seungcheol snapped him out of his thoughts and pulled the boy’s hands apart. “Stop that. You’ll hurt yourself. Are you anxious here? We can go if you like-”_ _

__“Why do you care about me?” Jihoon blurted out. Seungcheol blinked._ _

__“You care about those you like, don’t you?”_ _

__Jihoon seemed to be at a loss for words. He searched desperately for something to say - and look at. His eyes darted all over the table. Seungcheol began to frown._ _

__“Hey…” he spoke up, “it’s okay to have someone looking out for you. You don’t have to be on your own all the time.”_ _

__Jihoon couldn’t look at him. A sharp feeling rose in his chest and it became harder to breathe. His hands tugged harder on each other until his nails cut into his skin. He didn’t notice Seungcheol stand up, or put an arm around him. He barely noticed as Seungcheol dragged him outside for fresh air. Everything blurred into one; even his thoughts._ _

__Seungcheol guided him to the back of the restaurant, away from anyone passing. He wasn’t sure if the boy needed space or a hug. As a compromise, he stood with him and rubbed his back. He had no idea what he could say to help. He wasn’t even sure what he was panicking over._ _

__Eventually, the panic attack passed. Jihoon apologised with a shaky voice. It almost broke Seungcheol’s heart. He pulled him in for a hug - and Jihoon accepted. He let Seungcheol hold him, and tell him it’s okay, and then the boy started crying. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why did he have to freak out just because he had a friend? And now Seungcheol would probably think he was insane._ _

__“I’m sorry,” he said again, barely audible._ _

__“Nothing to apologise for. We can go home if you like.”_ _

__“O-okay.”_ _

__Seungcheol tried to keep an arm around him, but Jihoon pulled away. He kept a distance between the two. He hadn’t frightened Seungcheol off. He’d frightened himself off. He continued picking his hands as they bled._ _

__“Yours or mine?” Seungcheol asked._ _

__“What? Oh. I don’t know.”_ _

__“Okay, well, am I making it better or worse?”_ _

__Jihoon sniffed. “I don’t know.”_ _

__His friend sighed gently. They walked to Jihoon’s, and Seungcheol followed him inside._ _

__“Tell me to leave if that’s what you want,” Seungcheol said, “I’m just worried about you. That’s why I’m here now. Do you trust me?”_ _

__Jihoon looked at the floor. He didn’t know._ _

__“Look, Hoon,” Seungcheol spoke softly, “I don’t know what you’ve been through. I won’t pretend to know why you’re so… closed off. But you’re allowed to heal, okay? You can move on. You don’t have to trust me, or believe me, but I’d really appreciate it if you did. It won’t make me worry less. We’re friends now, aren’t we? So I want you to be alright. The last thing I want to do is hurt you-”_ _

__“I’ve heard this before,” Jihoon cut him off, tears streaming down his face, “and they let me down.”_ _

__Seungcheol put his head in his hands. “Jihoon, I have visited you almost everyday. Brought you stuff you needed and I expected nothing back. I got you here so you wouldn’t die. Without you I probably would’ve gotten some supplies from here and left, but I stayed to make sure that you’re okay. I wanted you to stay because I warmed to the place but mostly I knew it would feel weird without you, and also because I truly believe that you need the calm this town offers.”_ _

__“That means nothing.”_ _

__That hurt like a blow to the stomach, but Seungcheol chose to ignore it. “We’ve spent nights together and you’re still alive, aren’t you? I couldn’t even shoot when I met you, Hoon. I agreed to your truce because I was lonely. Honestly. What would I trick you with? How could I hurt you?”_ _

__“You-you always have weapons on you.”_ _

__Seungcheol stared at him. Then he unbuckled the knife from his leg, and his (new) gun from his backpack. He got up and placed them next to where Jihoon was leaning on the counter. He let Jihoon see that his bag and pockets were all now empty._ _

__“You can keep them, if that makes you feel better. I can borrow stuff for patrol. Not a problem.”_ _

__Seungcheol grabbed his bag and walked over to the door. Before he left, he said one more thing._ _

__“I only want to help you, Jihoon. I mean that.”_ _

__And once again, when the front door was shut, Jihoon began to cry._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	18. xvii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is definitely a chapter i proofed n went "yikes... ill come back to this" and then never did so sorry abt that enjoy

Seungcheol hadn’t seen Jihoon for a week now. For the first two days, he wanted to give him some space. But afterwards, whenever Seungcheol went over, Jihoon wasn’t in. That or he wasn’t answering the door - although it never opened when he tried it.

So now on his day off, Seungcheol found himself back at the health centre. He didn’t know where else to go. Mingyu looked over with surprise, but also relief - it got boring sitting alone.

“Hey, Cheol,” he smiled.

“Hi.”

“You okay?”

Seungcheol shrugged. “Do you, uh… is there someone who can help with mental health? It-it’s for Jihoon.”

Mingyu was going to ask if Jihoon was alright, but then decided it was most likely a useless question.

“Like, therapy?” Mingyu asked, then sighed. “If we did, I’d’ve referred Jihoon ages ago.”

Seungcheol nodded. “Okay. That’s fine.”

He remained standing around, kicking the floor with the back of his boot. What else could he do? He didn’t even know where Jihoon was. A part of him just wanted to cry.

“I haven’t seen him in a few days,” he said quietly. “I’m really worried. Last time I saw him he had a panic attack because I said I cared about him.”

Mingyu sucked air in through his teeth. “Not ideal. Jeonghan said he’s been with him, though. Never mentioned that Jihoon was doing badly.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened with relief. That was something, at least. Maybe that was why he was never in. Of course, he still missed him and was desperate to see him, but knowing he was at least still in town was enough. He had been a little concerned that Jihoon had taken off altogether.

“I want to see him,” Seungcheol said, “and I feel like… maybe he needs me to see him. To prove I wasn’t lying, maybe. But I don’t want to hurt him again. I really don’t want to trigger anything.”

Mingyu hummed. He didn’t have enough context to give a good response. It didn’t feel right to ask either. 

Seungcheol sat around for a bit until Wonwoo appeared, then he went home where Chan lay asleep on the couch. With a sigh, he sat down at the table with his sketchbook. This time he drew Heather. She stood with her head leaning out of the stables, like she was waiting for her owner. She looked a little sad and Seungcheol couldn’t blame her.

“You’ve been weird lately,” Chan said suddenly, sitting up with a stretch and making Seungcheol jump. He’d been awake for a little while now. He had just been watching his roommate draw.

“Mmm.”

Chan sighed. “I’ll get him to stab my other shoulder. Then you’ll see him.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but laugh. “At least you’re okay, though.”

“Yeah. Hurts, but yeah.”

Chan made Seungcheol lunch, as he had done for the last few days. He didn’t know any details - only that Jihoon seemed to be avoiding him - but had easily noticed the effect it had had on the guy. He was sleeping less, eating less, and snapping more. Usually chatty and cheerful, Seungcheol was a bit of a misery to be around currently. Life was so much easier without a crush, Chan thought.

Seungcheol nibbled on his pasta. He wasn’t hungry. He scribbled little marks in the corner of his page, his fork in the other hand. Chan watched with a tired expression.

“Your food’s going to go cold.”

Seungcheol sighed, dropping his pencil and dragging his plate towards him. He still played with more of it than he ate until Chan took it away from him. It got left on the kitchen counter with another plate on top.

The boy gave up sitting around and went on a walk. He, of course, walked to Jihoon’s. Three quick knocks. Nothing. Another three. Nothing. Seungcheol sighed. He stood for a moment, leaning his head against the door. Even a week living outdoors had passed quicker than this. He kicked the ground before setting off again.

He tried Jeonghan’s, and surprisingly the guy answered. They shot each other friendly smiles.

“I’m looking for Hoon,” Seungcheol admitted.

“He left, like, thirty minutes ago,” Jeonghan told him, “no idea where to. I think he turned left.”

For the millionth time, Seungcheol sighed. “Is he okay, at least? Genuinely? Be honest. I’m worried.”

Jeonghan leaned against the doorframe. “I don’t know, he just comes over with his work and sews for a few hours. Then he leaves. Haven’t you seen him?”

Seungcheol groaned with frustration. He shook his head, mumbled a thanks and turned around. 

He found himself at the stables. Seungcheol got to Heather and leaned over the gate of her stall to stroke her mane. He had grabbed an apple from a basket on the way, which she now munched happily. It was nice to see her. He hadn’t for a while. 

Seungcheol grabbed a saddle and harness so that he could lead her out. He got her ready, climbed up, and then trotted about the town with her as he often saw others do.

It helped to finally clear his mind. He lay awake at night thinking, of course, but it only made him feel worse and when he finally fell asleep, it wasn’t refreshing at all. But now in the fresh air and more to look at than his ceiling - a chance to breathe - Seungcheol felt like he could finally think.

The biggest thing on his mind was how much he longed to know who, or what, hurt Jihoon so badly. To the extent that the very idea of trusting someone caused anxiety. The inability to be without his gun. The seemingly constant fear of betrayal. Seungcheol may not know him too well, but he cared about him more than anyone in this town. He wanted him to be okay. To be happy.

It hurt to know that Seungcheol couldn’t help him. It wasn’t that simple. He couldn’t hold his hand and guide him through. He could only hope that Jihoon could learn that it was okay to just be happy. But how the hell could you teach someone that? Was there any rq way that Seungcheol could help at all?

Jihoon couldn’t even accept that Seungcheol had brought him here to save his life.

He took Heather back to the stables and walked home for dinner with Chan. Seungcheol still didn’t eat much. They finished the evening off with a film. This was the usual routine. Chan picked one of his favourite films and Seungcheol settled down to be amazed. Currently they were halfway through some series called Harry Potter and Seungcheol’s mind was being blown away.

Once the film was done, they said goodnight and got ready for bed. It was tedious for Seungcheol. He had to pull the sofa cushions out and then the mattress and then set it up with his pillow and blanket. Every night he had to prepare for bed before he was even tired, or else the temptation to sleep on the floor and hurt his neck (again) was too strong.

Seungcheol had just gotten comfortable and turned off his lantern when there was a knock at the door. He called out to Chan that he’d get it. Who would be knocking at this hour? 

It was Jihoon. He held Seungcheol’s weapons, which he handed over immediately without even any eye contact. When he finally did look him in the eye, his expression broke Seungcheol’s heart. He looked so fragile. So scared.

“I want to trust you,” he said so quietly that it was only just audible, “so please... please don’t let me regret it.”

And Jihoon turned around and walked home without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was writing ch32 the other day but i needed some context bc i stopped writing for a few months so i went back over the freshly finished ch31 but then that wasnt enough so i read ch30 but then that wasnt enough so i read ch29 but then that wasnt enough so i read ch28 but THAT wasnt enough so anyway when it comes to it dont skip from ch26 to ch32 bc god those ones build  
> ok thanks for reading love u bye


	19. xviii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is that even a roman numeral  
> skimread this one dont understand it but im on ch35 now so thatd be why enjoy

Jihoon felt guilty for avoiding Seungcheol. Several times he heard him knock and introduce himself. Several times he pretended not to be in. Even when Seungcheol tried the door, Jihoon kept his head low knowing the chair against the door would keep him out. He just couldn’t bring himself to see him. It wasn’t just the anxiety. It was the embarrassment. He had no idea why he’d reacted so badly. He had felt so overwhelmed but what by? Was he really so afraid of people? Jihoon knew that Seungcheol would ask but he couldn’t explain when he didn’t understand himself.

No one had ever cared about him before. And Jihoon had never wanted them to. Now someone did, and it felt good, and it was fucking terrifying.

Now, though, he was actually a little proud of himself. He sat on his bed and ignored the tremble in his hands. The boy had just come back from returning Seungcheol’s weapons. He felt that the move was a little bit of an odd move, but the gesture meant a lot. That he was trying so hard to get through to Jihoon… and for once, Jihoon was trying to ignore his doubts. He was trying to convince himself to cross any burning bridge when he got there - not avoid all bridges.

When Seungcheol knocked the next day, Jihoon put down his work and unlatched the chair. He opened the door. Seungcheol beamed.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

“Thank you?”

Seungcheol chuckled. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, by the way. Just… from now on, tell me when you’re uncomfortable. And please don’t avoid me after something happens because that just worries me more, okay?”

“Okay,” Jihoon nodded. Then he added, “sorry. D-do you want to come in?”

He opened the door wider and Seungcheol stepped inside. That was when Jihoon noticed he had brought lunch. He held two clear tubs of pasta and some sort of sauce. Jihoon didn’t know what was what yet. He was very inexperienced in cuisine.

They sat together on the couch to eat. During their week apart, Jihoon had gone hungry. He usually forgot to eat so Seungcheol was accidentally responsible for his meals. The boy ate sloppily now and Seungcheol suddenly felt a little bit guilty.

“I guess I should’ve left something by your door,” he said apologetically. Jihoon shrugged.

“I probably wouldn’t have noticed.”

Surprisingly, Jihoon didn’t feel anxious at all. It was almost relaxing, and he realised how strange it had been to not see Seungcheol for so long. Whether he liked it or not, Jihoon had grown attached. Now that was anxiety inducing. He tried not to think about it. 

“What days do you work?” Seungcheol asked suddenly.

Jihoon looked a little confused. “...everyday?”

“No days off? Not even the weekends?”

“No? Why would I?”

The best way to describe Seungcheol’s face was probably flabbergasted. “What was your previous job? Don’t you have days off?”

Jihoon hid his face in his hands. He came across so dumb in front of Seungcheol. He couldn’t tell the time, he had no idea what an elephant was and now it hadn’t even occurred to him that people don’t work everyday. Seungcheol was chuckling, but it took a moment for Jihoon to realise it was with him and not at him. Seungcheol put his arm around him and giggled into his shoulder.

“You’re so sweet, Jihoon.”

“I’m not.”

Seungcheol peeled himself off but he continued smiling. “Your last job must’ve been brutal, huh? You’re a little too good at murder and you didn’t know about weekends off.”

Jihoon wanted to stay silent, but he also wanted to trust him. He truly did. So he let him have a little bit with a flip of the stomach.

“Yeah. Wasn’t easy. I, uh… wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Can I know what it was?”

Jihoon considered it. How far was he meant to go on the trust thing? Then he thought fuck it. Say he had crossed his people (difficult if Seungcheol truly did grow up in a QZ), then telling him anything now would get someone’s death over and done with.

“I was a smuggler,” he said finally. 

Seungcheol raised his eyebrows with interest. So far so good.

“That’s so cool! So that’s how you’re so good in defence? What did you smuggle? Drugs?”

“Yeah, and luxuries. Food, clothes… Coffee, tea, sugar, that kind of stuff. And, uh, a few kids.”

Seungcheol started laughing until he realised he was serious. Then his hand went over his mouth.

“Like, live kids?”

Jihoon choked on his pasta. “No, Seungcheol, corpses. Yes, they were alive.”

Seungcheol started laughing again but this time his face (and ears) flushed red. The boy couldn’t help but think he was very cute. His laugh was pretty. His gummy smile was sweet, too. Jihoon looked away.

“I don’t suppose you had a job.”

Seungcheol shrugged. “I was the guy handing out rations for a bit. Never wanted to be a soldier.”

“Exciting stuff.”

An awkward silence followed Seungcheol’s agreement. Usually their silences were comfortable, but now each of them racked their brains for something to say. Instead they focused on their food until that was done too.

“Did you say you were from Busan?” Seungcheol asked, “what was that like? All the pictures I’ve seen of it pre-outbreak were pretty.”

Jihoon nodded. “It’s quite sad to look at now. It’s difficult to get around, what with the fallen buildings...The old pictures do make it look good, though.”

Busan was once a bustling city with beautiful beaches, but like everywhere, it now lay as a depressing place to live. Where skyscrapers once lit up the streets, fallen buildings now lay covered in growing wilderness. Some parts of Busan were now a hike rather than the quick drive it used to be. The diamond bridge no longer glowed at night and was difficult to cross - it was armed by the military. Previous hotspots had been overrun by plants and every pavement lay cracked and tilted. In a weird, haunted way, it was still pretty. But Jihoon hated it.

He was beginning to enjoy living in this little town. He recently discovered it was located about two hours south of Incheon - where his last trade deal had been - and it was called Taesu. Jeonghan found it hilarious that Jihoon had lived here for a month and a half without knowing its name.

Now as the days grew warmer and the snow melted, Jihoon could truly see how pretty Taesu was. It was pure countryside. Grass was everywhere you looked. It sandwiched the gravel paths, which were also lined by tiles. Flowers were yet to spring through but Jihoon was already anticipating them. He also kind of fancied going on a walk up a hill somewhere and eating lunch, maybe with Seungcheol, looking below the town. Perhaps up to where they’d first spotted little Taesu.

If Jihoon had ever heard of dates, he would’ve panicked at that thought.

But at the same time, growing close to someone felt lovely. He never truly bonded with his cousin Beomju despite working side by side for years. Beomju had never been the chatty type. They just saved each other’s lives with a silent nod. It was lonely, really. Like they only cared about one another because of business. And now Jihoon cared about someone and they cared about him just because they liked each other.

Yes, he definitely liked Seungcheol. Liked. What kind of like? Did he even want to think about that?

Suddenly Jihoon did start thinking. Seungcheol was, by a long margin, the greatest person he had ever known. He took him seriously. He liked Jihoon for Jihoon. Not how skilled he was in his job. Not because he could shoot accurately. Not because he provided him with anything. Seungcheol was there almost everyday through Jihoon’s physical recovery. And the days he wasn’t, Jihoon missed him terribly even if he refused to admit it at the time.

Seungcheol was kind. He was patient. He was warm and welcoming, lovely and sweet. His eyes lit up in the cutest way and his gummy smile set fireworks off in Jihoon’s heart. His laugh was his favourite song. He was the only person who brought Jihoon close to laughing. He felt the safest when he was with him. And Seungcheol never hesitated to help Jihoon feel safe.

Say for whatever reason Seungcheol kissed him right now. How would he respond? Ignoring the probability of a panic attack, what would Jihoon do?

Maybe a part of him would want to kiss back. Maybe a part of him wanted what Jeonghan had with Joshua. And maybe he would lose Seungcheol just like their sad love story, but maybe Jihoon would tell stories about his lover with the same sad light in his eyes as his friend. The look of having lost your true love. The look of having had a true love in the first place. And maybe a short time together would be better than Jihoon regretting never kissing back at all. 

Quite possibly, Jihoon did want a boyfriend. He did want to kiss someone. He wanted to cuddle into someone’s side, cling to someone’s hand, bury his face in someone’s chest. And he wanted it to be Seungcheol. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

“Bullet for your thoughts?” Seungcheol asked.

Jihoon took a deep breath. “I’m wondering what it would feel like to be in love.”

Seungcheol hummed. He leaned back into the sofa. “It sounds amazing, doesn’t it? You know the way Mingyu looks at Wonwoo…”

“You’ve never been in love?”

Seungcheol shook his head. “No. Yes. Well, maybe. I’m not sure. I’ve had crushes. And one a little more than a crush, but I don’t know if I’d call it love…”

His voice trailed off and Jihoon's ears burned scarlet.

“I’ve never even had a crush before,” he said, “I’ve never known anyone to crush _on _. In fact, I-I thought I was aromantic.”__

__“But you don’t anymore?”_ _

__Jihoon shrugged. “I don’t think so. Some boys are pretty cute.”_ _

__“Some?”_ _

__It felt like his ears were on fire. He ignored the explosion in his chest. “One.”_ _

__Seungcheol beamed. It was like he knew. “Does he treat you well?”_ _

__“The best of anyone I’ve ever known. He’s too good to me. I’ve never been half as good back.”_ _

__“But you stitched up what became his favourite jacket, right?” Seungcheol said softly._ _

__He knew. How did he know? Was he just cocky? No, his Seungcheol wasn’t cocky - or he’d run around everyone like he did Jihoon. He was eager to please only him. He’d never given a second glance to anyone else._ _

__“Yeah,” Jihoon’s voice was hardly audible, “yeah, I did.”_ _

__Seungcheol felt as though his heart would burst. He was definitely the romantic type, but at the same time, he was very timid over love. His bold question had terrified him, but it had paid off._ _

__A bullet was pressed into Jihoon’s palm. For his thoughts._ _

__“Cheers.”_ _

__Seungcheol tapped a rhythm onto his knee cheerfully for a minute. It seemed as though a thousand thoughts were rushing through his head. They were running through Jihoon’s too, almost as fast as the pounding of his heart. In the span of a few minutes, he’d realised his first crush and then confessed. Holy shit._ _

__“I’m fine,” Jihoon said suddenly, “b-but I just need some air.”_ _

__Sympathetically, Seungcheol nodded. “Do whatever you need, Hoonie.”_ _

__Hoonie. Cute._ _

__Jihoon slipped outside and leaned against his front door. His chest was on fire. Was it in a good way?_ _

__Nope; he felt dizzy. He sat down. That felt a little bit better. He suddenly remembered something his mother told him. If you’re feeling faint, keep your head between your knees. Jihoon drew his legs up and did just that. It began to work after a while. The spinning gradually stopped. When he finally looked up again, Jeonghan was standing a little way off. Jihoon hadn’t even heard anyone’s footsteps._ _

__“You good?” He asked._ _

__“Yeah. Just got hot inside.”_ _

__Jeonghan blinked. He was on his way to patrol though so he left his friend to it._ _

__Jihoon slowly stood himself up and hovered for a moment, just to make sure he was steady. Then he walked back into the warmth. Seungcheol greeted him with a bright smile. Jihoon nodded back and found his spot once again beside him._ _

__Seungcheol was buzzing. He looked very pleased with himself but not in a smug way - like he was proud of himself, but also a little shy. It was cute. Should Jihoon tell him that?_ _

__“You’re cute, Cheol,” he muttered. It came out in a grumpy tone but Seungcheol grinned all the same._ _

__“As are you!”_ _

__“Shut up.”_ _

__Seungcheol went to take Jihoon’s hand, but he thought against it. They touched and then Seungcheol pulled away. He considered apologising. Jihoon’s chest thudded. He didn’t say or do anything. Neither did Seungcheol. Maybe one day Jihoon would be able to hold his hand as they strolled through town._ _

__“I’m trying, Cheol,” he said quietly._ _

__“I know,” Seungcheol kindly replied, “and I’m proud of you.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway yeah ch31 took. 2 months to write ch32 took a week still isnt actually done and now im on ch35 bc i WHIZZED and now need to figure out how this bitch ends but anyway  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	20. xix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another update? already? yeah im procrastinating ch36 what about it

Early on Saturday morning, a note was passed under Jihoon’s door. He noticed it an hour later, and it sent him running to Jeonghan’s without a jacket and his boots unlaced. He pounded on the door. It was opened swiftly by a boy looking messy in his pajamas and raising his eyebrows, half annoyed, half amused. Jihoon looked back to the note on his hands.

“‘If you’re ready for it, then let’s have our first date. I’ll wait for half an hour at our pub at twelve. Love, Seungcheol.’” He read out.

Jeonghan smiled. It was his first proper smile in a while. “You need help getting ready?”

“God, yes.”

Jeonghan told him to wait a moment before shutting the door. Jihoon chewed his nails whilst he waited. When his friend came out he got told off for it, so he turned to his knuckle until that bled too and Jeonghan tore his hand from his mouth.

“You want to look good, right? What if he wants to hold your hand?”

“I’m going to die,” Jihoon said, and he meant it.

Jeonghan threw open his chest of drawers, forgetting that it was half Joshua’s. His hands shook. But between himself and his late lover, they at least had some nice clothes - better than Jihoon’s overworn t-shirts. He pulled out a checked button up.

“This’ll be nice beneath that black jacket you always wear,” he said. He held it to his face before handing it over.

Jihoon stared at it then lay it on the bed. He held up some jeans and Jeonghan nodded his approval.

“What are you going to do with your hair?” He asked, “you desperately need a haircut. We can get it cut; there’s time. Or I can tie it up.”

Jihoon raised his eyebrows. “Tie it up how? I don’t want to look like a pied apple.”

Jeonghan’s face was blank. He blinked a couple of times. Then he laughed.

“It’s a pineapple, Jihoon. And I mean like a bun.”

“Oh. Oh okay. Do you think Seungcheol would like it?”

“We’ll find out.”

Jihoon hid in the bathroom to shower (a luxury he still admired) and to get dressed. He combed through his hair that fell just past his eyes. It did look awful. Would he suit a bun?

Jeonghan waited for it to dry before doing anything. Then he pulled a hair tie out of his pocket (Jihoon wasn’t in the state to question it) and pulled Jihoon’s hair back. He tied it loosely, more of a ponytail that hadn’t been pulled all the way through, and some pieces didn’t quite reach so they fell around Jihoon’s face instead. 

“You look hot,” he said honestly. Jihoon’s face only said confusion.

“I do?”

“You do. Seungcheol’s got good taste.”

Jihoon turned bright red. He glanced in the mirror on top of the chest of drawers and blinked in surprise. That was him? Why did having his hair up make him look so different? Would Seungcheol really still think he’s cute? 

They hung around for a few hours, having gotten ready far too early. Jihoon read his book for the millionth time. He didn’t feel like touching Joshua’s selection yet. Pages were still folded over and it made Jihoon feel funny. Jeonghan took one though. Except he didn’t seem to really read it.

Soon it was time for Jihoon to leave. He ignored the building anxiety. He could do it. It was just a date, that’s all. He hadn’t even heard of the concept before, but it sounded romantic. Jeonghan would’ve told him what it was if he asked, but Jihoon didn’t want to embarrass himself. Seungcheol had probably told him that he didn’t even know any animals. Better yet, clocks baffled him and he didn’t know any correct less-basic fruit names.

Jihoon was five minutes late. Seungcheol was swinging on his feet and shaking his hands in a desperate attempt to keep warm. The boy almost ran to him - and would’ve done if his bun didn’t feel so loose. 

Seungcheol raised his eyebrows as Jihoon approached. The boy immediately groaned and touched his hair.

“It looks terrible, doesn’t it?”

“No!” Seungcheol assured him, “I was just surprised, that’s all. It looks lovely. You look lovely.”

Jihoon blushed. “As do you.”

It was true. Seungcheol had dressed up a little and clearly put more effort into his hair. He donned a (scruffy) baseball jacket over a plain t-shirt and jeans. It looked cold. Cute, but cold.

“Do you feel okay to eat in here?” Seungcheol asked, “if not, we can get a takeaway and find somewhere-”

“I want to try,” Jihoon insisted, and with a goofy grin from Seungcheol the pair went inside.

Jun waved at them from the bar and Jihoon already felt embarrassed. He was doing okay though, despite what his trembling hands said. Seungcheol noticed but he didn’t say anything. 

“The usual?”

“Yeah, please.”

Jihoon sat alone whilst Seungcheol ordered food. He shut his eyes for a moment, like he was assessing his mental state. Much better than he expected. He could feel his heart rate slowing down to how it should be.

Seungcheol slipped back in his seat and smiled at Jihoon. It was comforting. Jihoon’s shoulders relaxed.

“I’ve never - I’ve, uh, never been on a date before,” Jihoon stuttered.

“Me neither,” answered Seungcheol, “it’s okay. We can figure it out together. I’ve never even kissed anyone before.”

“I don’t understand kissing. Aren’t you just… eating the other person?”

Seungcheol gave him an odd look but in a playful way. He was laughing too. “Until very recently, I’d say, I wanted to kiss you. But I’d rather not be eaten.”

Jihoon turned red, almost his usual colour these days, and he hid his face in his hands. Seungcheol pulled them away again. When Jihoon finally looked up, the guy was leaning across the table and smiling at him.

“Do you have any idea how sweet you are?” Seungcheol asked softly.

“Don’t say that. I’ve killed so many people, Seungcheol.”

“You’re so romantic.”

Their food arrived and Jihoon tucked in. He had to cut his burger up and eat with his knife and fork because he didn’t trust his shaking hands to eat it normally. The chips were far easier. Seungcheol nicked a few so Jihoon nicked a few of his. Eventually though Jihoon was full and slid his plate across for Seungcheol to finish, which he did. He also tried his best to get Jihoon to eat some more - he was a skinny little thing - but Jihoon wasn’t having any of it. He already felt sick.

Seungcheol had already paid so once they had both eaten, they left side by side and walked around town. Their hands brushed more than once. Jihoon wondered if Seungcheol was doing it on purpose - trying to hold it - but he wasn’t too sure if he was ready for any physical affection yet, as minor as hand holding was. 

“Where are we going?” He asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Seungcheol smiled. “It’s a walk away from town if that’s okay. You can say no.”

“It’s okay.”

Jihoon stuck close to Seungcheol as they left the gates. Seokmin was on the doors and the trio nodded their hellos. Jihoon had his gun in his hand. Just in case.

They trekked up hills and scrambled over ledges. Seungcheol had to pull Jihoon up some of the higher ones - not only was he still building up the fitness he once had, but his (lack of) height put him at a disadvantage. He hoped that their destination would be worth it. He was about to ask how much further when Seungcheol covered his eyes.

Jihoon’s heart thudded as he was blindly led forward. He clicked the safety off of his gun. Trust him, he begged himself, trust him, trust him, trust him.

“It’s alright,” Seungcheol reassured him, “I just don’t want to ruin the surprise. Okay, open.”

Seungcheol removed his hands and Jihoon opened his eyes.

It was an abandoned theme park. Jihoon gasped. He looked at Seungcheol then back at the rotting entrance sign, then back at Seungcheol. The boy grinned back at him.

“Trust pays off, right?” He said. Jihoon nodded in awe. He walked through the entrance and then broke into a jog.

An empty fountain stood in the middle. Jihoon admired its magnificence for a moment before continuing through. Seungcheol let him lead as he discovered things by himself. 

Their first stop was a merry-go-round. Gold horses with light blue saddles hovered frozen in midair. Bright lights donned the tent-like structure, now faded and overgrown with leaves. Seungcheol ordered Jihoon to pick a horse whilst he searched for a power button.

“Does it actually work?” Jihoon asked.

Seungcheol shrugged. “I didn’t want to try when I found it before. I preferred to save the power for you.”

He found a red button and assumed that was the one. He pressed it. Music began.

“It works,” Jihoon said as he started bobbing up and down and the world slowly spun. Seungcheol ran up and jumped onto the horse next to him. It wasn’t particularly quick paced, but it went fast enough for Jihoon’s stomach to feel a little bit funny each time the horse dipped lower. Seungcheol grinned at him. Jihoon was too in awe to say much.

It came to a sudden halt. The ride had broken down. Jihoon sighed and Seungcheol groaned.

“It’s okay,” Jihoon said, “it was fun anyway. There’s more rides, right?”

Seungcheol nodded and the two climbed off. 

Nearby there was a helter skelter. They could only find one sack to slide down on, so Jihoon hung back for Seungcheol to go first. Afterall, Jihoon had gotten more out of the carousel. Seungcheol loved it, Jihoon a little less. It was just okay to him, so he let his crush have a few more turns before they found their next ride.

It was teacups. Six teacups of various colours in the same swirly pattern sat in a circle. Seungcheol told Jihoon to get in one, but it wouldn’t turn on. It was clear that this upset the guy. He really wanted to give Jihoon a great time. Help him live a little. Jihoon reassured him that it was okay, he could imagine it clearly enough. He returned to his side and squeezed his hand. This helped a considerable amount.

The next ride Jihoon found was bumper cars. Fenced off with a protective roof, black flooring was decorated with mustard yellow and bright red cars, with large antennas at the back. Only a few remained, and they looked extremely worn down. The paint was peeling, as were the seats, and their passengers were leaves. Jihoon jumped over the fence anyway.

“Do you think it still works?” He asked.

“Hop in and we’ll see.”

Jihoon did just that. He chose the “cleanest” looking car, a red one, and checked out the pedals. Seungcheol walked into a little room on the side, and returned a minute later. He yelled at Jihoon to wait for him before testing anything. Then Seungcheol hopped into a yellow car. Jihoon hit accelerate. 

It moved.

Jihoon screamed with glee and Seungcheol laughed. It wasn’t long before they hit each other front on.

“Ow!” Jihoon cried, “what’d you do that for?”

“That’s the point of the ride, you idiot!”

Jihoon reversed and quickly whipped his car around, slamming right into Seungcheol’s side. They collided with a great thud. He rushed off before Seungcheol could attack him. Jihoon went straight into the side of the area instead, and his crush cackled. Next thing he knew, Seungcheol had crashed into the back of him and Jihoon’s car got thrown forward. This continued until the ride broke down a minute later.

Jihoon undid his seatbelt so he could lean over the steering wheel and catch his breath. He looked up at Seungcheol, who was staring right at him. And Jihoon smiled and laughed, enough light in his eyes to illuminate the sky.

“I loved that one,” he said. Seungcheol beamed.

“Your smile is gorgeous, Jihoon.”

And he thought his laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world, but he didn’t want to embarrass him.

Jihoon’s hair was now a mess, and he quickly grew self conscious when he noticed the new strands hanging around his face. He patted his head shyly. His bun was mostly a ponytail now. Seungcheol noticed and pulled out the hair tie.

“It looks nicer down,” he said quietly. Jihoon nodded. Noted.

The rest of the rides were too dangerous to try to start themselves and couldn’t be trusted to even be as strong as needed. The roller coasters were obviously far too dangerous after a twenty year hiatus, and some of the tracks had collapsed anyway. Jihoon stared at one longingly, one with a loop-de-loop in the middle, but the idea of it made Seungcheol feel sick.

The pair started their trek back. They were both getting tired now. Once they’d jumped down every ledge (and Jihoon had twisted an ankle doing so), Jihoon slipped his hand into Seungcheol’s. Their hands felt like they fit together. It felt right. He almost smiled once more. Of course, Seungcheol did. 

“How did you know about that place?” Jihoon asked.

“I saw it in the distance from patrol,” Seungcheol explained, “it gets cleared out from a distance. So I checked it out up close yesterday and thought of you.”

Jihoon couldn’t help but smile. Seungcheol squeezed his hand. Until today, he’d never known Jihoon to look even remotely happy.

“Your dimples are adorable.”

“I have dimples?”

“Only when you smile with your mouth closed, I think. Very cute.”

Jihoon turned bright red. He held on tighter to Seungcheol’s hand, and didn’t let go until they were back at his place.

They rested for a while, chilling with a film before Chan got home. It was Toy Story. 

Jihoon wasn’t ready for cuddling. Holding hands was enough progress for today.

They walked together to grab dinner. It was their usual takeaway of fish and chips. Jihoon couldn’t quite finish it, as per usual. Seungcheol didn’t mind though. He left it on the side for Chan later, then they got through The Lion King. It wasn’t that good, in Jihoon’s opinion, but Seungcheol loved it and even cried at parts. Jihoon awkwardly patted him on the back.

Ever the gentleman, Seungcheol walked Jihoon back home. They hovered at the door, unsure of what to do or say. In the end Jihoon just thanked him for an amazing day, Seungcheol promised him any time, and they parted ways.

Jihoon slept the best he had for a long time, dreaming of someone who made him feel the best he ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a playlist for this fic but its on my phone so ill link it next chapter  
> uhhhh havent plugged my twt in a while its @24hwoozi  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	21. xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello im currently writing ch40 which is probably the last and idk what to do w myself after thats done but anyway
> 
> PLAYLIST BITCH its on apple music get fucked spotify users: https://music.apple.com/gb/playlist/hazey/pl.u-xlyNJMWska64DYK

Jihoon woke up with a scream. Then he hit his pillow and groaned. He hadn’t had a nightmare in a few weeks now. He was just growing proud of himself, then he had to go and relive his first close friend’s death. Her body had been sliced from the neck to the lower stomach. Like a serial killer Jihoon had once read about. It still made him want to throw up - and that he did.

A quick sharp knock sounded through the lodge just as Jihoon flushed the toilet. He wiped his mouth with tissue then opened the door. It was Mingyu.

“Oh,” Jihoon said in surprise.

“Oh,” Mingyu replied, “can I come in?”

Jihoon nodded and held the door open. The doctor entered.

He looked around and looked a little sad. It suddenly occurred to Jihoon that Mingyu had been close to Joshua too. Sometimes he really wished he wasn’t living in Joshua’s shell.

“I’d like to redecorate,” Jihoon said, “but I don’t know what to do with it.”

Mingyu hummed. “You can go to markets for sheets you like. And your own posters. Sometimes there’s stalls that do figurines and stuff like that. Maybe rearrange the furniture?”

Jihoon looked around. Maybe. The double bed leaned against a wall, which didn’t make much sense to him considering the fireplace was on the opposite wall (where the bathroom was placed). Maybe he could move the bed to where the sofa currently was, and put the tv above the fireplace… He thought all of this aloud and Mingyu helped him to get it moving. Once they were done (and had probably done their backs in), Jihoon already felt more at home. He decided to head down to the market tomorrow to get his own things.

“So… why are you here?” Jihoon asked. Then his eyes widened. “Oh, that came out rude. I just meant-”

“It’s okay,” Mingyu laughed, “I know what you’re like. It’s like a translator in my head. Anyway, I just thought I’d check up on you. I haven’t seen you for a while, so. How’s the hand?”

Jihoon pulled off his special glove. The bite was now a disgusting scar that he detested. Mingyu looked at it indifferently.

“It’s weird that your skin bubbled then scarred like that,” he noted, “I’ve never seen something like it before. It looks okay though. Painless?”

“Painless,” Jihoon confirmed. 

He sighed and ran his other hand over it, like he was trying to rub it off. He wished he could. The boy wasn’t one to care about his appearance (unless it was with Seungcheol) but this scar was easily his biggest insecurity. It wasn’t just because of what it was. It was plain ugly. It was disgusting.

Jihoon slipped his glove back on and sat down. 

And suddenly, he blurted out everything about the day before. He couldn’t help it. It was fresh on his mind and the words just fell out. Every little detail he could remember of his lovely date - the first day he had felt happy. How much it meant to him that Seungcheol had made such an effort for him. How amazing it was to have some fun.

Mingyu listened with fondness, smiling all the way through. Jihoon was very passionate when he ranted - and it made a great change from the usual poker faced character he had grown to almost like. Plus, it reminded him of when he was falling in love with Wonwoo.

“Sounds like you had a great day,” he smiled.

Jihoon nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I need to take him somewhere just as good, but that’s pretty tough to beat.”

Mingyu agreed, and promised to let him know if he found out anywhere cool. Usually he’d save it for Wonwoo, like Seungcheol had saved the park for Jihoon, but Jihoon seemed to want it more. 

“I really like him,” the boy said quietly. Then he smiled to himself and fiddled with his hands.

“Do you think you’re ready for a proper relationship?”

Jihoon shook his head and hated his answer. 

“I can only just hold his hand.”

“You’ll improve,” Mingyu promised, “you’ve already come so far. But you can’t rush recovery, okay? Give yourself time.”

Jihoon nodded - then he felt a little proud of himself for essentially admitting that he was damaged. That there was healing to be done. And it felt like a weight had lifted from his chest. He was grateful to have found people who understood that he was only an asshole as a defense mechanism. And he tried his hardest to trust that their true intentions were to help; not to deceive.

Mingyu hung out for a little while longer. He chatted about a few of his latest patients, how much progress Wonwoo had made in the medical field, how Wonwoo was almost ready to start taking on minor cases alone, how Wonwoo had now been deemed too valuable to even man the doors anymore… it was cute how everything just turned into who he loved most.

“Oh - you’re on patrol tonight,” Mingyu said, “so rest up. Seungcheol will pick you up at midnight.”

Jihoon nodded and grinned. Patrols were easily his favourite activity.

Then a call came through on Mingyu’s radio and he had to go tend to someone. Jihoon was left to his own devices. He was tired of sewing, but it was his job now so he got back to it. He was already buzzing for patrol - and there was still the whole day to go. It gave him back the thrill Jihoon had loved in smuggling. 

He kind of missed his old job sometimes. As terrible as it made him feel, as much as it hurt him, it was fun. It was exciting running around with illegal goods and foraging across the country. Through smuggling, Jihoon got to do what no one could do anymore: travel. Very few people had ventured as far south as Busan and as far north as Seoul, touring Daegu whilst he was at it and exploring Gunsan. It amazed him that despite being born in Busan, he now lived close to Incheon; 200 miles apart. He could never have imagined this being his reality when he was a kid.

Jihoon worked until twelve then cooked himself some pasta for lunch. After this, he took a trip to the market where he bought some old superhero figurines and some poster with a floating house on it. It was held in the air by thousands of balloons. Bold text read “UP” and Jihoon wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be motivational or if it was a film. He decided to ask Seungcheol later.

Once his new trinkets had been placed, Jihoon drew his curtains to make his place as dark as possible. Then he buried himself beneath the sheets and tried to fall asleep.

It must’ve worked because Jihoon was woken up by someone shaking him. Jihoon grabbed his gun and pointed it forward. The result was whacking Seungcheol in the face with it. The boy yelped and almost fell over from his crouched position.

“Jesus, Cheol,” Jihoon said, “you know I’m jumpy. What did you expect?”

“Yelling didn’t work,” Seungcheol answered as he rubbed his sore cheek. “We need to go. We’re with Minghao.”

Minghao? Then Jihoon remembered who he was. His eyes widened both with dread and fear. He barely knew him, but he didn’t trust him at all. And Minghao didn’t trust him either. Seungcheol saw his face and smiled apologetically.

“Yell at Jeonghan for it,” he said, “he’s trying to speed up your trust building. I argued, but it failed. Obviously. Now come on.”

Jihoon got up and grabbed his backpack. He was already dressed. Of course, he held his gun in his hand in case Minghao tried anything.

Minghao was really a lovely looking boy, with a sweetly innocent face but a ghastly glare. He seemed soft and stern all at once and it reminded Jihoon of himself. And Jihoon knew what _he _was capable of - so Minghao could potentially do as much. But the boy smiled at him now.__

__“Hi,” he said, “Minghao. We’ve not met, right?”_ _

__“I don’t think so,” Jihoon said stiffly, “I’m Jihoon.”_ _

__The trio set off, torches at the ready once they’d left the lamplight. They left through the east gates. Jihoon didn’t recognise the guards this time. He stuck close to Seungcheol and watched Minghao closely. Seungcheol could feel his hand shaking._ _

__“It’s okay,” he whispered so that only Jihoon could hear. Jihoon just squeezed his hand in response._ _

__Their first stop was a church. They met the guys out front (one Jihoon recognised as Seungkwan) and swapped over. Minghao signed in. Jihoon spotted a rope dangling from a balcony and scrambled up. His partners were impressed. The guy was as nimble as a cat. Seungcheol felt an odd sense of pride. He took it upon himself to loot and shared his findings with Jihoon. Minghao had found his own stuff._ _

__“Where next?” Jihoon asked._ _

__“Window,” Minghao called._ _

__Jihoon nodded and pushed it open before scrambling through and onto a garbage container, conveniently placed so that they could climb down. It was on wheels though, which Seungcheol hadn’t prepared for. He jumped down with great force and it suddenly moved a metre or so, causing him to topple over and fall onto the ground. Jihoon, crouching, watched with raised eyebrows._ _

__“Always assume something has wheels,” Jihoon said, jumping down and pushing it back for Minghao. That wasn’t before he had helped the freshly bruised Seungcheol to his feet. He returned back to take Seungcheol’s hand once more. It helped warm him up in the late winter chill._ _

__Minghao took the lead. Not even Seungcheol had been on this route before. They were taken to an old supermarket in the middle of a rundown town. It was clear. Jihoon sighed, a little bored. He wanted some action._ _

__And action they got._ _

__They strolled down the road which led to the main town. It was difficult to see with their little flashlights, but Jihoon quickly caught sight of outlines that could only be the infected. The three turned their flashlights off._ _

__“Fuck,” Minghao swore, “night patrols are for people. Not infected.”_ _

__“Shut it,” Jihoon hissed._ _

__The three crept through as quietly as they could. Some were “sleeping” - their bodies hunched over, their hands floppy held to their chest, grunting and groaning. Others had heard their talk and were sniffing around for their new feast. A clicker croaked. Or maybe two. It was hard to tell._ _

__Then someone’s scream made them both jump. Jihoon quickly recognised it as Seungcheol and began to panic. He had no choice but to click on his flashlight, only to see someone’s hands dangling nearby. Seungcheol had stepped on a trap. A rope from a tall tree around his ankle suspended him, just a little way off the ground. Jihoon jumped up and grabbed the knife that the poor guy had dropped._ _

__“Leave him,” Minghao yelled, “there’s too many of them!”_ _

__Jihoon said nothing. The comment left him furious, though. He channeled that anger into cutting through the tough rope - although he could only just reach. He had to go for the loop and try his best not to cut Seungcheol himself._ _

__“Hoon, just run,” Seungcheol begged, “I’m not worth it.”_ _

__If he knew what Jihoon’s glove hid, then he’d realise there was nothing for Jihoon to lose. And that was all he thought when a runner clung onto his shoulders, pulling him back and reaching for his neck. Minghao groaned and pulled the fucker away, shooting it in the neck._ _

__Jihoon realised it would be far quicker to risk cutting open Seungcheol’s foot than to delicately slice the rope. So he went for it and the poor boy scrunched his face up as he fell with a harsh thud then began to bleed. Meanwhile, gunshots filled the silence. Minghao was good at defence, at least._ _

__Seungcheol was, once again, pulled to his feet by Jihoon. He ran a little slower now, but he was well enough. They took a small breather in the supermarket. The doors would never hold for long, though._ _

__“You’re a fucking idiot,” Minghao scorned with a glare at Jihoon. The boy glared back._ _

__“I don’t give up on my fucking friends,” he said._ _

__“Well, sometimes you have to!”_ _

__“You think I don’t know that?”_ _

__“Guys,” Seungcheol groaned. The slamming at the door was increasing. They took off again through the back door, rushing through the aisles and leaving a trail of blood from Seungcheol’s leg. The door they’d come through burst open just as they shut the one at the back._ _

__“Keep running,” Jihoon said, “I’ll close the doors at the front and catch up.”_ _

__Seungcheol whimpered. “Hoon-”_ _

__“It’s okay,” Jihoon said, and took off. Luckily he was a notably fast runner and it didn’t take him long. Neither doors would hold, but it bought them more time._ _

__Seungcheol was waiting for him._ _

__“Cheol!” Jihoon yelled._ _

__“I wasn’t going to leave you,” he insisted. Jihoon grabbed his hand and pulled him along. The guy was limping now. They could only hope it was from the pain of a probably deep wound rather than interior damage._ _

__Minghao was out of sight now. It only proved how Jihoon felt about trusting just anybody. It didn’t upset him, though. He was just angry._ _

__Seungcheol was slowing them down, so Jihoon gave up and swept him into his arms. It should’ve been romantic, but it just startled the injured guy. Jihoon ordered him to shoot over his shoulder. It was a relief that Seungcheol’s aim had improved. And it reminded them of the day after they first met, when Seungcheol had to get Jihoon to safety._ _

__Now that Minghao had gone, the two had no choice but to return home. Neither knew the route. Plus Jihoon wanted to get Seungcheol to the doctor; his ankle was bleeding too much for anyone’s liking. They didn’t get the chance to apply any pressure and this scared each of them._ _

__“Are you feeling okay?” Jihoon asked, “are you dizzy or anything? Do you feel sick?”_ _

__“I’m okay.”_ _

__“Promise?”_ _

__“Promise.”_ _

__They made it to the medical centre with Seungcheol well and conscious. The bleeding had thankfully almost stopped now. Jihoon put him down and knocked on the door before entering._ _

__It was empty. Jihoon sighed and told Seungcheol to sit down. He found a pillow so he could elevate his leg and promised to find Mingyu soon. But how would he? Desperately, he wished he knew where Mingyu lived. Who would?_ _

__Jihoon ran to Jeonghan’s, out of breath now. He knocked as hard as he could. A very sleepy Jeonghan answered, with messy hair and oversized pajamas._ _

__“I need Mingyu. Cheol’s hurt.”_ _

__Jeonghan sighed. “It’s always you two. Gyu lives on the first street you see when you walk right from the centre. Number three.”_ _

__Jihoon nodded and took off again. He wasn’t sure if it was so urgent, but he refused to risk anything. Not with Seungcheol._ _

__Luckily Mingyu was easy to find, and Jihoon almost broke his knuckles knocking on his door now. He answered in a similar state to Jeonghan. His eyes were full of sleepy concern. Jihoon explained everything, and Mingyu grabbed his jacket and shoved his feet into his boots. He called out (presumably to Wonwoo) that he was just popping out on a case and then went with Jihoon to where Seungcheol was waiting._ _

__Mingyu examined and cleaned the wound before stitching it up and tightly covering it with bandages. He concluded that nothing serious had been done, but Seungcheol would have to take care not to pull the stitches. He let him go with a yawn._ _

__Before they left, Seungcheol stopped in his tracks. He pointed at the clock._ _

__“What time is that, Hoon?”_ _

__Jihoon groaned and stared with concentration. He furrowed his brows._ _

__“...half one?”_ _

__“Good job,” Seungcheol grinned. Jihoon smiled back._ _

__They held hands all the way home. Seungcheol grabbed his pajamas from his house, then they walked to Jihoon’s. They climbed into bed almost immediately, even though the younger one wasn't tired._ _

__“Don’t tell Chan I cut your ankle,” Jihoon said, “or he’ll think I just like to stab innocent people.”_ _

__Seungcheol laughed and shook his head. “You should’ve just left me though, Hoon. You almost got bitten.”_ _

__“It wouldn’t matter,” Jihoon mumbled. Seungcheol heard. He turned to face him._ _

__“Don’t say that.”_ _

__Jihoon held his gloved hand. His finger tapped along to the bite with uncertainty. It would take a lot of trust to confide in Seungcheol with that secret. He sighed instead._ _

__“Sleep well, Cheol. And get well soon.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could barely rmemeber this chaoter tbh and it was only wirrten in september  
> ok love u bye thanks for reading bye


	22. xxi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again  
> speeding updates up bc i finished it. i have finished the fic. wtf am i meant to do w myself

It was a Saturday, and Jihoon realised he should give himself a weekend. He was currently sitting in bed knitting anyway, a sleeping Seungcheol beside him. Jihoon hadn’t slept all night. He’d fucked his sleeping schedule taking the night patrol, and it wasn’t even worth it. Poor Seungcheol had only been injured. Plus, Jihoon now had an actual reason to distrust Minghao.

Seungcheol stirred at what Jihoon could just make out as ten o’clock. The boy was tired, clearly. He smiled when he looked over at his lover.

“Good morning, love.”

“Morning. Sleep well?”

“Good enough.”

“How’s the ankle?”

“Fine,” Seungcheol promised, “doesn’t even hurt.”

Jihoon nodded. “That’s good. I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t have much choice.”

Seungcheol insisted it was okay, but the boy remained feeling a little guilty. He put his knitting to one side and swapped the needles for his lover’s hand. Now that he was comfortable with it, holding Seungcheol’s hand was Jihoon’s new favourite thing to do. It was so comforting even when he didn’t need any comfort.

“What are we doing today?” Seungcheol asked.

“You’re resting your ankle.”

The guy scoffed. “Boring. It’s just a cut.”

“You’ll pull the stitches out.”

“It’s bandaged too tightly to bend anyway!”

Jihoon shook his head and left Seungcheol to whine. His pout was adorable though. Jihoon had to look away so that he didn’t notice that he was smiling.

He got out of bed, telling Seungcheol to stay put, and opened up his little fridge that sat beneath the counter. He pulled out some bacon and eggs and started cooking. Jihoon hadn’t really cooked much until recently. Back in Busan he just lived off of other people’s scraps. If it wasn’t for his constant physical work building muscle, he’d be a skinny little thing. He still was a skinny little thing, but he would’ve been more so. Anyway, living here in Incheon had given him some skills that he never realised he would appreciate.

Jihoon served breakfast with a little smug look on his face. He had never cooked for Seungcheol before. He barely even cooked for himself.

“Bon appetit,” he said.

“Bon what?”

“It’s French or something for something food related, I don’t know. My mum used to say it.”

Seungcheol chuckled. “Well, it looks amazing. Thank you.”

They ate quietly but happily, as they usually did. Jihoon had actually done quite well with the food - especially considering he had mostly been improvising the whole time.

“Did Minghao leave you last night?” Jihoon spoke up, “or did you tell him to?”

“I said I’d wait for you and he called me stupid. Then he left me, yeah. It’s cool though.”

Jihoon was scowling. He stabbed his bacon with a little too much force.

“He’s such a dick.”

Seungcheol shrugged. “He’s nice enough otherwise. He helps out at the bar sometimes. I think he’s dating Jun? Don’t quote me on that.”

Jihoon couldn’t be convinced. He finished his food after attacking his plate, grabbed Seungcheol’s once it was empty then put it all in the sink with a clatter. He glanced to see if it was broken then climbed into bed again. Seungcheol had lay back down so Jihoon surprised both of them by snuggling into his side. It was nice. He closed his eyes as an arm was wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry I cut your leg.”

“You don’t need to keep apologising, Hoon, it’s fine,” Seungcheol promised, “although it’d be nice if you let me out of bed.”

“I said you need to rest, not that I’m holding you captive.”

Seungcheol smiled and kissed Jihoon’s head. Jihoon pulled back and stared at him. The other apologised immediately. Jihoon should’ve said it’s okay, it was nice, but he was too startled to do anything at all. He had never been kissed before in any way. He loved it. It had just scared him though, that’s all. They were getting close. So close.

After perhaps an hour of cuddling and soft chatter, the two got dressed and Jihoon walked Seungcheol home. Once that was out the way, he headed to the barber Jeonghan had recommended and got his hair fixed. He got the classic long on top short on sides but it still felt so much shorter than before. It was nice to no longer flick it out of his face every three seconds.

Jihoon headed to Jeonghan’s, as he always did when he had no idea what to do. The guy let him in with a small smile and a compliment on his new haircut.

“How was the date?” Jeonghan asked.

Jihoon suddenly grinned and ranted like he had before to poor Mingyu. Just like Mingyu, it reminded Jeonghan of his early days with his lover, but instead of feeling romantic nostalgia it just made him sad. He zoned out and stared at the floor. It was a while until Jihoon noticed.

“...and honestly, I was so - sorry, am I boring you? I’ve rambled a bit, haven’t I?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “You’re okay, Hoon. Don’t mind me.”

Finally, it clicked. Jihoon’s eyes widened.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trigger anything-”

“No need to treat me like broken glass. You’re usually the only person who doesn’t.”

Jihoon nodded with a sigh. He didn’t know what to say next. He fiddled with his fingers.

Jeonghan was thinking too. He hated pity. It drove him insane. Sometimes he wondered if he’d recover quicker from losing Joshua if he was left to grieve alone, in his own way, without people badgering him with kindness and pity that got annoying after a while. He always changed the subject from it and it wasn’t completely because the very mention of Joshua sent him on a downwards spiral. He tried desperately to change the subject now.

“Does your glove cover a cordyceps bite or did I dream that?” Jeonghan asked suddenly.

Jihoon blinked. “Uh. Yeah. It’s a bite.”

“I bet it looks weird.”

Jihoon snorted. He took his glove off and showed it to the guy. Jeonghan looked at it with curiosity and furrowed brows. It reminded him of Mingyu.

“That is weird.”

Jihoon put his funky little sleeve back on. “It’s disgusting. Honestly, if I had some acid, I’d probably use it to make a new scar to cover up.”

“Uh… not the best idea I’ve ever heard?”

Of course, the boy had been joking (partially), but he was desperate to get rid of it somehow. His glove was a good solution for now, but once he was on regular patrols and active again, it would soon show itself to be less than ideal. Tearing was inevitable. He couldn’t risk a tear on the palm either, which would most likely be easy to do. Plus, they had to be tight to avoid slipping and thus it wasn’t particularly comfortable. It had needed some getting used to. Jihoon stared at his hand with a sigh.

“It must be so great to be immune, though,” Jeonghan said, almost with a longing look in his eyes, “I bet you wouldn’t need a gas mask.”

Jihoon hadn’t thought of that. He hadn’t even looked at his mask since he’d stuffed it at the bottom of his bag quite a while ago now. It had been a long time since he had been around any spores.

Anyone would think that immunity would be on the top of Jihoon’s mind at all times, given its rarity and luxury, but Jihoon hated to think about it. He wanted to blend in.

“Who knows about the bite?” Asked his friend.

“You and Mingyu.”

“Not Seungcheol?”

Jihoon shook his head. “He still thinks a dog bit me. And that the scar’s an insecurity. Although that part isn’t a lie.”

Jeonghan told him the pair were a good match, and that he hoped it worked out for them. Jihoon’s ears went scarlet and he gave the boy a smile for his kindness. Jeonghan stared with wide eyes. It was such a shock to see any sign of happiness in the damaged Jihoon. Jeonghan felt quite proud.

“You’ve unlocked a bit of emotion then?”

“Oh yeah, I have a thirty second allowance to laugh each week.”

“Good for you!”

Jeonghan didn’t dwell on Jihoon’s improvement to avoid embarrassing the boy, but it was lovely to watch him heal. Although they hadn’t known each other for long, and neither would say they were particularly close, Jeonghan was growing quite fond of Jihoon. He was a naturally protective person and Jihoon seemed to need that the most. He couldn’t help but feel proud when he showed any sign of healing. 

“There’s a nice florist in the marketplace,” Jeonghan said, “on Saturdays. I think Vernon works there now. Anyway, get some for Seungcheol. He’ll love it.”

Jihoon took a mental note, but there was no need. Jeonghan walked him down shortly after. He guessed that the boy didn’t have the first clue about flowers and would need a hand. He was right. The two got to the flower stall and whilst Jeonghan said hello to Vernon, Jihoon stared with both bewilderment and confusion.

“What’s the most romantic?” He asked, “roses?”

“Red roses,” Vernon nodded.

Jihoon hummed. Would Seungcheol like roses? Or would he prefer sweetpeas or daisies? He looked at Jeonghan for help but the boy was zoning out again. So in a panic, Jihoon went for a bouquet of red roses. He sniffed them and blinked.

“He’ll like them right?”

Jeonghan nodded eagerly. “He’ll love them. Go give them to him now!”

“What about you?”

“I have errands to run. You go on, Hoon.”

So Jihoon went on. The flowers shook in his timid hands and he desperately wished that they wouldn’t. He couldn’t help the nerves though. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Luckily, Seungcheol answered and not Chan. Jihoon suddenly realised he had no idea what to say. Any possible words got hitched in his throat. He held the bouquet out instead. That was enough to earn a sweet grin from Seungcheol.

“Is this for my ankle?” He asked.

“I-it’s because I like you, Cheol.”

Seungcheol could’ve melted. He took the flowers with a million stars in his eyes whilst Jihoon’s face burned. He picked at his hands again.

“They’re lovely, Hoon. Thank you. You know you’re adorable right?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“You are,” Seungcheol insisted, and kissed Jihoon on the cheek. A very bold move considering the last time he’d kissed him in any way, Jihoon was clearly terrified. This time though, he smiled. He held his cheek like he was savouring the spot before following the boy inside.

Chan was chilling on the sofa, but moved to his room to give the “couple” some space. Jihoon didn’t get it and was beginning to feel insulted.

“Does Chan not like me?” He asked.

“He’s giving us space, that’s all. Otherwise he’d be awkwardly thirdwheeling us.”

“Oh! Oh, that’s good. I thought he was still mad at me for the shoulder.”

Seungcheol chuckled as he put the flowers in a vase and filled the vase with water. “Nah, he’s over it. He thought my ankle was funny, by the way. He called me a damsel in distress.”

Jihoon smiled. “You were. Idiot.”

“Thanks for not leaving me. But you could’ve been bitten, you know that? You shouldn’t risk your life for me.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Jihoon said, then quickly added, “death doesn’t really bother me.”

Seungcheol gave him a weird look. “I wish you’d lighten up.”

Jihoon nagged him to rest his leg to change the subject, and the boy sighed. He placed the flowers on a previously empty table next to the sofa before sitting down. They snuggled up to each other with a blanket. Jihoon closed his eyes and relaxed.

The only time Jihoon felt safe was when he was with Seungcheol. A part of him still worried about that, but he was so full of adoration that it had somehow taught him how to ignore the fear and embrace the good part of it. And now Seungcheol was almost like an addiction. Jihoon hadn’t realised how heavy his shoulders felt until he moved here. No one had any expectations here. He wasn’t Lee Jihoon, one of the best smugglers in the country - he was just Jihoon, the odd boy who very few actually cared about. And he loved it.

“I think I’ll keep on living here,” Jihoon said. “It feels like a retirement.”

“You were a smuggler right? I bet you were the best.”

“Obviously.”

Seungcheol smiled and put an arm around him. “So you’ll stay longer than the winter?”

“I think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive got no idea what to say  
> love u bye


	23. xxii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that says 22 right??????? i hoenstly used to kniow roman numerals

Jihoon woke up feeling hot, sweaty, and like he was going to puke. His mind went to his hand and his heart began to thud violently. So maybe the infection was delayed. He wasn’t immune afterall. He took the glove off and stared at the wretched bite.

He was barely awake for a minute before he had to run to the bathroom. He threw up his insides, flushed the toilet, then leaned against the wall in defeat. The world was spinning. Suddenly Jihoon wished he had seen someone turn before so that he knew what was coming. He always killed anyone he knew who had been bitten before it could happen. Jihoon held his bad hand and cried. All it achieved was worsening his headache.

He should’ve seen it coming. He had felt like his head was foggy for the past few days and he couldn’t think straight. Jihoon had resorted to staying at home to try to get over it.

Speaking of Seungcheol, he came knocking on the door before long. Jihoon didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His lover called his name out, telling him he knew he was in because his (muddy) boots were outside. 

“I don’t feel well, Cheol,” Jihoon called weakly.

Seungcheol still asked to be let in to look after him. Jihoon didn’t answer. Then finally, silence. He must’ve left. Jihoon desperately wished he would turn sooner. Maybe he should just shoot himself.

After twenty minutes of Jihoon coughing and gagging on the bathroom floor, someone knocked on the door again. Mingyu called out this time. Jihoon almost laughed. Was that how protective and paranoid Seungcheol was? Then he thought maybe it was just the way Jihoon had originally refused to let him in because he wasn’t feeling well, then didn’t respond the second time. That was fair enough, he supposed. He snapped himself out of his muddled head and listened to Mingyu.

“Hoon? I just need to check you’re okay and we’ll leave you alone. Seungcheol will stay outside.”

Jihoon sighed. He trusted Mingyu to shoot him in the head. He got up (almost fainted) and by some miracle, made it to the door. He only opened it slightly, hiding behind it. Mingyu only opened it a little further to slip through and shut it before Seungcheol couldn’t even look in.

“I think I’m turning,” Jihoon mumbled. 

Mingyu’s expression was unreadable. It was concern, disbelief and confusion all at once.

“Sit down; you’re too pale for my liking. Tell me your symptoms.”

Jihoon sat down on the edge of his bed and hoped his head would stop spinning.

“Uh… dizzy. Hot. Body aches. Head does too. Um-” Jihoon coughed into his elbow, “I’ve been sick-”

“A cough and you’re sniffing? Is your throat sore?”

“Yeah.”

“Tingling limbs?”

“No.”

Mingyu blinked. Then he laughed. Jihoon looked at him with confusion.

“I think you just have the flu, Hoon. You don’t get a sore throat or a runny nose when you’re turning.”

“Are you joking?”

“Nope.”

Jihoon collapsed on the bed with relief. Mingyu had to try hard to stifle his laughter. 

“Bless you, Hoon. You’re alright.”

The sick boy held his hands over his face in both relief and embarrassment. He wanted to laugh but he knew it would irritate his throat. He’d honestly assumed his throat hurt so badly because of the weird vocal change between the healthy and the infected. Thank god it would be gone in a week.

“You just need plenty of water and rest,” Mingyu said, still chuckling, “I’ll leave you to it and let Cheol in. I told him you’ve got a medical condition by the way, just so he knew why I was rushing to you. Have fun improvising around that one. Get well soon.”

Jihoon climbed back into bed and closed his eyes. He already felt so much better knowing it wasn’t the cordyceps finally taking control of his brain. He heard the door open followed by a light discussion and the door closing once again.

“Hey, buttercup,” Seungcheol cooed.

Jihoon opened his eyes and furrowed his brows. Buttercup?

“Don’t scare me like that, okay?” Seungcheol said. He took the empty glass from Jihoon’s bedside and refilled it. “Also, you should’ve told me about your condition. I can help you with anything you need - whoa, that’s a nasty scar. Is that from that dog? Did it get infected?”

The sick boy had completely forgotten his hand was on display. He blinked blankly at him. Did he trust him that much yet? Should he wade into the deep end?

“That’s my condition,” he said.

“Yikes, did the dog give you something?”

“It wasn’t a dog. It was a runner.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to be confused. He froze, glass in hand. Then he finally put the glass down and shook his head.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not,” Jihoon insisted, then had to cough into his elbow again. “I’m trusting you here. I threw myself at you everytime you were near the infected for a reason. And I wear that glove for a reason. I’m immune, Cheol.”

Seungcheol looked as though he was doing some calculations in his head. It was just as Jeonghan had done several weeks prior. If Jihoon’s heart wasn’t racing, and his head pounding, he’d have laughed. 

The guy was thinking everything through. How secretive Jihoon had been with his bloodied, bandaged hand. How he refused to let Seungcheol look at it. The sleeve, obviously. And of course every time Jihoon had happily thrown himself in front of the infected to save Seungcheol, and how he said he only did it because it didn’t matter if he got bitten. He even connected the dots of Jihoon’s oddly long hospital stay. He was being monitored for the infection. And why Mingyu had taken him outside to talk him into staying. Then of course, how Jihoon dropped off the face of the earth after feeling a bit ill.

“I believe you,” Seungcheol said finally, “it adds up, I guess. It’s just… so weird. Who else knows?”

“Only Mingyu and Jeonghan. You can’t tell a soul, or I’ll shoot you.”

Seungcheol nodded. He didn’t doubt that for a second. “Of course not. You can trust me. God, you’re lucky.”

Jihoon hummed. He fiddled with his hands. Seungcheol caught onto the self consciousness and changed the subject like he hadn’t just received news that could turn out to be life changing.

“Do you need me to get you anything? The market might have something to soothe your throat or something like that.”

“I’m okay.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No, but I’m okay.”

Seungcheol frowned but said nothing. He plonked himself into bed beside him and took Jihoon’s bitten hand. He looked at the scar with curiosity.

“You’ll get my flu,” Jihoon warned.

“It’s going around, Hoon; I’ll get it one way or another. This looks like it hurt like hell.”

“Not really, actually. Fucker just really hated my guts. Or liked my guts too much. Honestly, I didn’t even feel it. Just a bit of stinging.”

“Were you alone?”

Jihoon shook his head. “I was on my way back from a job with my cousin. He got bitten and in the business, we all have a pact to kill someone as soon as we find out they’re infected. So I shot him and ran, then noticed my bite when I was getting away on Heather.”

“That’s heavy. Is that what your nightmares are?”

“Sometimes.”

Seungcheol held the boy close. “You deserve so much better.”

Jihoon didn’t know what to say, so he leaned into his lover’s side and closed his eyes. It didn’t last for long, however. Jihoon’s stomach lurched and he had to run. Seungcheol followed. He rubbed his back and stroked his hair. When the boy was back in bed, he fetched him a bucket to keep beside him. Jihoon hadn’t had anyone look after him since his mother died. It was nice. He lay down, as per Seungcheol’s orders, and watched as he prepared him a light porridge breakfast. A lot of hope was placed on Jihoon’s ability to keep stuff down.

Unsurprisingly, Jihoon didn’t have much of an appetite. He ate a little himself and then played with it instead, stirring his spoon around the bowl and essentially just kneading it for a while until Seungcheol took control. 

“I’m not a baby!” Jihoon protested, but he let Seungcheol feed him anyway. The care alone made him feel better and he was very grateful. 

He didn’t quite manage to finish his breakfast, but he got through enough to please Seungcheol before lying back down. Seungcheol put some music on (Mingyu gave Jihoon the stereo that was once Joshua’s) and Jihoon soon fell asleep. Although he’d more or less slept well the previous night, somehow he was rendered exhausted today and he hadn’t even been awake long.

When he woke up, Seungcheol was still sitting beside him. He had his sketchbook on his lap. It was a portrait of a man who looked a little like the artist, but his lips weren’t as plump and his nose was a bit off.

“Who’s that?” Jihoon asked hoarsely.

“My big brother.”

“You have a brother? Do you miss him?”

Seungcheol hummed. “Yeah. We were close. I hope he’s doing well.”

Jihoon always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. He often thought that maybe he was only an only child because of the apocalypse. If it had never broken out, Jihoon was sure he’d have a little brother or sister to be protective of. He was grateful now to not have that worry. Jihoon suddenly remembered little Xiyan. He closed his eyes. Mistake. He began to relive the memory and his heart thudded.

Seungcheol noticed the boy’s whimpers and the way he hid his face into the duvet, curling up like a baby. 

“Hoon? Are you okay?”

Jihoon, of course, didn’t respond. He barely heard him. His whimpers turned into cries and then screams as the episode advanced. Seungcheol had no idea what to do. He’d never seen him like this before - and he hadn’t even seen it coming. The guy put his work to one side and placed his full attention on Jihoon. He scooted back a bit so that he wasn’t crowding him, but close enough to rub his back in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

“It’s alright,” he soothed, “you’re okay.”

Eventually Jihoon’s reality resolved itself, and his wailing turned to crying, and then coughing as he had more than aggravated his poor throat. Seungcheol handed him his glass of water and held him close. Jihoon leaned on him like a doll.

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon mumbled with half a voice, “I just… I get these flashbacks. It’s what the nightmares are too.”

“Does anything trigger them?”

“I-I’ve never paid enough attention to it,” he admitted, “but I know sometimes it’s when I think about it. What… what happened, I mean.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened? It might help.”

Jihoon declined. He was sure talking about it would just cause another episode.

“Is it PTSD?” Seungcheol asked gently, “I think my uncle had it. I heard my mum talking about him. It sounds a bit like you.”

Jihoon took a deep, shaky breath. “I think so.”

His lover nodded and kissed him on the head. “It gets better, Hoon. I promise. And I’m proud of you.”

Jihoon had no idea what Seungcheol was proud of him for, but it meant a lot. No one had ever said that to him before. He snuggled into him - his new favourite thing to do - and allowed himself to calm down and relax.

“Please don’t leave me,” Jihoon whispered.

“I won’t. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uwu???????????????????????????????????????  
> idk  
> love u bye


	24. xxiii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> never counting chapters in roman numerals again  
> was actually gonna leave this a few days then i got two comments on the last chapter that made me happy so im posting again today :))))))) ily to whoevers commented on this fic ever im sorry i suck at replying

About a week later, Jihoon was feeling much better - both physically and mentally. Seungcheol had stayed with him to look after him. Then Seungcheol grew sick, which they had agreed was inevitable, and the next few days were spent in a role reversal. They still stayed at Jihoon’s place even after both were feeling well again. The boy was beginning to worry about feeling lonely when Seungcheol finally went home.

For now though, the “couple” strolled hand in hand along town. Neither were talking but Jihoon was humming a little tune to himself. It was cute.

“That’s a nice song,” Seungcheol said, “what is it?”

Jihoon shrugged. “Made it up.”

“An L Jihoon original?”

Jihoon checked they were out of anyone’s ear shot, and then said “Lee.”

“Hm?”

“Lee Jihoon. My surname’s Lee.”

Jihoon’s chest pounded, now worried that Seungcheol had been indirectly crossed by some bastard Lee Jihoon. But the guy just grinned - he was thrilled to be trusted with the information.

“If you trust me with your surname, will you trust me to play guitar to me later?”

Jihoon didn’t reply. Seungcheol didn’t press it. He was very aware of how easy it was to make the boy uncomfortable. 

They walked to Jihoon’s, of course with a takeaway lunch. They no longer had to recite their order at the pub. They were regulars with Jun now. The couple threw themselves on the sofa, dug into their chips and watched a musical film ‘Hairspray’. Jihoon would never admit how much he enjoyed it.

“If you lived pre-outbreak, what job would you want?” Seungcheol asked. Jihoon hummed.

“I’d like to make music. A producer, I think they were called?”

Seungcheol oohed and called him fancy. “I bet you’d’ve been great.”

Jihoon ignored his burning ears. “What about you?”

“I have no idea. That’s why I asked you,” Seungcheol laughed, “I guess it would’ve been fun to be an actor. Or a TV presenter. Mostly though I’d’ve just loved to be able to safely raise a family. So a stay-at-home dad I guess.”

“That’s real cute, Cheol,” Jihoon smiled. He seemed like a family guy. He sensed it whenever family was brought up - when he’d discussed his brother the other day anyone could’ve sensed the hurt in his voice. Jihoon wondered how plausible it would be for him to go back and check on them; but he also knew that sneaking in or out of a quarantine zone was extremely risky business and you had a better chance of being shot. Seungcheol was unbelievably lucky to have made it so far considering he was just a runaway.

Luck was a funny thing - at least to Jihoon. It was something he was oddly wary about. He had escaped from countless situations thinking he was lucky to be alive. There were so many gunshots that almost hit him and so many people who he’d aggravated. And until recently, he had always come out unharmed. His amount of luck had to be limited; and this immunity had to take up a whole chunk of it, as Mingyu had once pointed out.

But now Jihoon was hardly at risk. He lived in a secure town that never left its gates unguarded. Someone was always on patrol in every direction. Sure, they’d been raided, but he had since been told those were extremely infrequent. The town fought them off without much lost anyway. And Taesu was the only place that Jihoon had ever been able to relax. To recover. To heal.

“I think I’m finally beginning to feel safe,” Jihoon said softly.

Seungcheol put an arm around him and the boy leaned his head on his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I remember when we first got here, I was staring at Joshua and Jeonghan wondering how the fuck they felt safe enough for a relationship. And then Josh fucking died which didn’t help anything, but that’s not relevant. It’s just that… I finally get it. And I really enjoy being close to you, Cheol.”

Seungcheol’s grip tightened and he leaned his head on Jihoon’s. He closed his eyes.

“You have no idea how much it means to me that you trust me, Hoon.”

Jihoon smiled. They stayed snuggled up together for a while longer until the boy broke free of his lover’s clasp. He walked over to the guitar. He picked it up and then sat down on the edge of his bed. Seungcheol gasped. Jihoon began to play.

He didn’t sing. He just played an instrumental tune. His fingers plucked the strings delicately, almost too pretty for all the scars they bore. It was Let Her Go by whoever Passenger used to be. 

Initially, it was nerve wracking having an audience, but as he got through Jihoon relaxed. It was just Seungcheol. So before long, Jihoon lost himself in the music. All he focused on was the melody he played and what came next. Jihoon felt like a little bit of a somebody, even if just for a minute. When he finished, he looked up at Seungcheol with a suddenly nervous expression.

“Happy now?” He asked, pretending not to care.

“You amaze me,” Seungcheol smiled. Unsurprisingly, Jihoon was bright red.

“C-can you play?”

The guy shrugged. “I used to know a little bit. It’s been years though.”

“Come here. I’ll teach you. I may not know what an el-funt is but I know my chords.”

“It’s an elephant, Jihoon,” Seungcheol said with a small laugh as he walked over. He sat down beside him. 

Jihoon handed over the guitar and guided him through basic chord progression. Seungcheol could only vaguely remember it from long ago. He didn’t even need an excuse to have Jihoon’s hands near his, guiding his fingers into specific positions to create a tune. It sent butterflies running through his chest. He could live in that moment forever.

So could Jihoon. It replayed in his head as he fell asleep that night, smiling as he fell asleep only to relive it in his dreams.

Jihoon woke up, still happy from the previous day’s events. It was a Sunday so he continued to try and embrace the concept of a “weekend”. It wasn’t like they were very different for him though. His work wasn’t manual - he just sat around repairing t-shirts Jeonghan collected for him. It felt more like a hobby than a job. It wasn’t like he particularly enjoyed it though. He much preferred the patrols but he was deemed too precious with his bite - or as everyone else he knew saw it, he was exempt due to a medical condition. Everyone else was only Wonwoo at this point.

Mingyu still checked up on him regularly, especially after Jihoon was terrified by the flu. He looked over the scar (far less thoroughly than he used to now that it had healed) and Jihoon reassured him that he felt fine. Usually he protested about the lack of patrols he was allowed on. And then usually the result was Jihoon got to go on one, but only with at least two other people to protect him. 

Mingyu really wasn’t a fan of Jihoon on patrols. The boy was yet to get through one without coming near harm. First trespassers, and then a swarm of infected. It was unnerving to let an immune boy loose on them. So when he visited that day, he told Jihoon he could go on patrols once a week on the condition that he had either Seungcheol or Jeonghan with him, and that it was only infection clearouts. That satisfied Jihoon for now.

“I wish you trusted me more,” he said. Mingyu snorted.

“That’s bold, coming from you.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I’ve been a smuggler since I was twelve. I promise you I’m stronger than you think.”

Mingyu hadn’t actually known that, and he looked at him with wide eyes. A burst of questions escaped for curiosity reasons and Jihoon sighed and answered them all. Yes, he was forced into it, no he didn’t hate it, yes he enjoyed it, yes it was stupidly risky and blah blah blah. Mingyu was horrified to learn that smuggled goods sometimes included young children despite Jihoon being a child himself. The boy added that he looked about nine years old when he was twelve to lighten the mood, but Mingyu’s brows were furrowed. He was thinking hard about something.

“What is it?” Jihoon asked, suddenly nervous.

Mingyu shook his head. “I just think that was an awful way for a child to be raised.”

Jihoon agreed, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. He had a funny relationship with the smuggling business. As much as he enjoyed it, he saw now how badly it had damaged him. He kind of wished to be as naive as Seungcheol. Also Seungcheol had actually received an education. Jihoon only had half of one.

“Have you seen Jeonghan lately?” Mingyu asked.

“No, why?”

“I haven’t seen him for a while. And he’s missed a few jobs.”

“What even is his job?”

Mingyu shrugged. “It’s not really anything. He does all the boring stuff no one else wants to do. Like he timetables the patrols and the guarding, sorts out the noticeboard, checks everything’s in order and all that. That’s why he knows everyone and everyone’s business. Honestly, I think that’s why he does it.”

“He sounds important.”

“Well, his dad built half the town, so. Figures.”

Jihoon nodded. “I’ll call on him later.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m sure he’s fine, it’s just… I know he’s still struggling after Joshua. A lot.”

Mingyu found it difficult to talk about Joshua too. His death had hit hard. He knew it was unfair to blame himself for his death but he couldn’t seem to help it. It kept him awake some nights. If he had acted faster to stop the bleeding then maybe Joshua would still be here. Maybe Jeonghan would still be happy. He convinced himself that it was fate.

Jihoon walked partway with Mingyu when he left, but only for a moment because he stopped at Jeonghan’s whilst the doctor went back to work. Jeonghan didn’t answer. He let himself in.

Jeonghan was alive and kicking, at least. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the floor. His hair was a mess - it clearly hadn’t been touched for at least a few days. His skin was paler than a ghost’s. Dark circles decorated his eyes and his face lacked any colour. He was quite busy bouncing a little red ball onto it and catching it again in his hand in a perfect, satisfying rhythm.

“I found a toy,” he said quietly.

“I can see that,” Jihoon replied and looked around. The place was almost as messy as Jeonghan himself. Empty beer bottles sat here and there, a few wine bottles too. Dirty dishes had piled up and it was obvious that Jeonghan hadn’t done any laundry in a while. Jihoon raised his eyebrows.

“I thought you couldn’t tolerate beer,” he said.

“That remains correct.”

“Yikes.”

He wasn’t sure whether he should comment on the alcohol. He didn’t really blame him. Partially why Jihoon avoided the stuff was because he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to stop drinking it. From what he’d heard, it was an amazing distraction from any issues you had.

“Maybe take it easy on the alcohol, Han,” Jihoon said gently, “you really don’t want to start an addiction.”

“I really don’t care, Hoon. I’m fine anyway. I’m not dependent on it.”

“Yet.”

“I thought you didn’t care about people?” Jeonghan groaned, “that’s why I like you. You’re the only one who doesn’t give me shit and now you’re giving me shit.”

“I draw the line at my friends destroying their lives. Can I clean up?”

“Whatever you want.”

Jihoon collected the numerous bottles and put them in the bin outside, carrying as many as he could at a time. Then he gathered up the dirty laundry in a basket and placed that by the door. He couldn’t baby Jeonghan, so he left that job for him. He wanted to make something to eat too, but the cupboards were empty apart from a stale loaf, much too hard to eat.

“You’ll be okay alone for an hour, right?”

“I’m fine anyway.”

Jihoon didn’t answer but he rolled his eyes. He headed to town, collected some groceries for Jeonghan and returned in a hurry. He treated him to Jihoon’s classic BLT sandwich. The boy nibbled it, not particularly hungry. He saw how worried Jihoon was though and tried his best to finish it. Jihoon nodded his approval.

“I’ll be okay, Hoon,” Jeonghan said with a sigh, “I’m just in a slump.”

“I know, but you can’t let yourself slump too hard. It’s a dangerous game to play. I’ve seen it.”

Jeonghan sighed. He started bouncing his little red ball again. Jihoon watched and wished he knew something comforting to say. But he’d never been in Jeonghan’s position before. Not in the same way. And he never recovered from anyone’s death, so he wasn’t one to say anything at all. He let it get to his nightmares and refused to acknowledge them out loud. Apart from Beomju. And that wasn’t haunting him just yet. He was about to encourage Jeonghan to try to talk about it when the boy spoke first.

“Do you want to do a patrol with me this week?” Jeonghan asked, “just you and me.”

Jihoon smiled. “Yeah. That’ll be cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg my twt got suspended i just remembered  
> so impeach biden was trending on twt and locals were like omg kpop stans flood the hashtag SO WE DID and twt suspended us all  
> my new twt is @wooziberries n i follow back ;)  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	25. xxvi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a very clumsy chapter u wont believe its been proofed twice over. compared to my usual once

The patrol was a gentle one, as per Mingyu’s orders (for both of them) but Jihoon was still excited for it. It was nice to get out of the house and see that Jeonghan did too. They strolled along happily enough. Jeonghan didn’t admit it, but he already felt better being outside in the fresh February morning air.

They went yet another route Jihoon had never seen before. He took everything in. Every branch, every flower, every little rabbit. Seungcheol would’ve loved the beautiful walk up the hill and along the river. Every so often they reached a break in the trees where they could look out and kill any infected in the distance. It was a bit of relief for Jeonghan - a gentle way to take his grief out on something.

“I had to beg Mingyu to take you out alone,” Jeonghan said with a small laugh. Jihoon sighed.

“He’s so obsessed with my immunity.”

That got a weird look.

“Aren’t you?”

Jihoon shrugged. He fiddled with the safety on his gun. “I don’t really… I don’t like knowing that I could watch you get bitten and die whilst the same could never happen to me.”

“Survivor’s guilt?”

“I guess.”

Jeonghan kicked a few stones on the path as he thought about what to say next.

“It must be strange spending your whole life dodging the infected just to find out that the first one you saw could’ve bitten you and you would’ve been fine.”

Jihoon chuckled and confirmed that it was weird. He absolutely hated his immunity.

“The scar bothers me the most,” he said, “otherwise I reckon I could easily forget about it.”

“Maybe you could cover it with a tattoo?”

Jihoon scrunched his face up. He wasn’t a tattoo person at all. He didn’t think it would suit him. He was far too soft faced - he was very aware that he was on the cuter side. His mother used to call him a strawberry and he still lived up to that now. He was even naturally very rosy cheeked, which meant at Christmas he was upgraded to Rudolph. Suddenly Jihoon really missed his parents. He wiped his eyes.

“You okay?” Jeonghan asked, then added jokingly, “I thought I was the depressed one.”

Jihoon hesitated to say anything and then didn’t reply at all. That made it a little bit worse. Jeonghan put his hand on Jihoon’s back and suddenly Jihoon stopped walking. He began to sob. He had never cried over his parents before. Not even as a kid. Too much had happened at once and he never seemed to get the chance. But Jeonghan held him now, emotions hit at once and Jihoon tried hard not to cry. The guy thought it was about his bite. He wasn’t about to correct him.

Jihoon insisted he was okay and carried on.

The pair found to their first checkpoint. It was an old house in the middle of a neighbourhood. Jihoon explored a little, looking for ammo. He caught a glimpse of a child’s bedroom and walked straight past.

The rest of the patrol went smoothly and without event. Jihoon walked Jeonghan home before going to his own place. There he found a note on the floor. He’d accidentally stepped on it so it was a little muddy now, but only on the envelope so it didn’t really matter. Jihoon opened it with curiosity.

_”Meet me at mine at six on the dot.  
Yours,  
Seungcheol” ___

__Jihoon smiled with slight confusion. He put the note on the kitchen counter then guessed that he should probably shower. He could only assume that he wouldn’t be needing dinner before six._ _

__Jihoon dressed as nicely as he could whilst remaining casual at the same time. He was stressed. What were they doing? What was it for? It must be important because Seungcheol had drawn what six o’clock looked like on the clock._ _

__Jihoon grew more and more nervous as six approached. He left without a jacket so that the cold air could calm him down. It almost worked by the time he got to Seungcheol’s. He knocked on the door and hoped that he had read his clock right._ _

__Seungcheol opened with a smile. Jihoon was already red._ _

__“Is it six?” He asked._ _

__“It’s six,” Seungcheol confirmed. He took Jihoon’s hand and took him inside._ _

__The room was dimly lit by candles. A bouquet of roses sat on the table, as did two plates of spaghetti. Jihoon fiddled nervously with his hands._ _

__“What’s this?”_ _

__“Happy Valentine’s day, my love,” smiled Seungcheol. Jihoon’s jaw dropped._ _

__“Oh my god! Cheol! I didn’t know, I didn’t get you anything, I-”_ _

__“I didn’t expect anything,” Seungcheol reassured him, taking his hand, “I wanted to treat you.”_ _

__Jihoon felt awful as he sat down. He had no idea what day it was most of the time. He enjoyed dinner though. Everytime he caught Seungcheol’s gaze he felt his face heating up and his chest pounding with adoration. Despite the guilt, Jihoon had never felt happier. He suddenly stopped eating and leaned forward, holding his head in his hand. Seungcheol looked up and blinked._ _

__“I’m so glad you found me in that house,” Jihoon smiled, “I really like you.”_ _

__It was Seungcheol’s turn to blush. “I really like you too, Hoon. So much. You’re really sweet. Deep down, anyway,” he teased._ _

__Jihoon grinned. “I’m only sweet to you.”_ _

__Seungcheol looked down at his plate, swirling the food with his fork before looking up again. “Thank you for trusting me, Hoon. It means a lot.”_ _

__“Thanks for letting me.”_ _

__That was enough honesty for Jihoon. He went back to his food to avoid saying anything else that was soppy._ _

__When dinner was done, the couple did what they did best: watch a film on the sofa. Jihoon was half on Seungcheol’s lap - the closest they had ever been - and Seungcheol ran his fingers through Jihoon’s hair. The film was a cringey romcom, but Jihoon didn’t mind as long as he got to be with his lover. It was one of those moments where Jihoon realised that he was happy._ _

__He shuffled a little bit so that he could look properly at Seungcheol. He stared into his beautiful, dark eyes and watched the way they crinkled at a funny scene. He admired his plump lips and thought about how desperate he was to kiss them. Jihoon cupped Seungcheol’s cheek. He ran his thumb across his skin and past his scar. Seungcheol looked back with only warmth in his eyes._ _

__“You’re so beautiful, Cheol,” Jihoon whispered._ _

__Seungcheol smiled, and then he leaned in. Jihoon could’ve sworn his heart missed a beat. Their lips met. Jihoon pulled away._ _

__He didn’t want to. His chest just suddenly felt tight and he couldn’t breathe. Suddenly Jihoon was filled with rage and hatred for himself. Why did he have to ruin everything? It had been so perfect. It could’ve been so perfect. Jihoon wanted to kiss Seungcheol. He really did. He wanted a proper relationship. He wanted to call Seungcheol his own. He was so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid._ _

__These thoughts ran through his head as Jihoon started hyperventilating. He looked down, trying to escape Seungcheol’s gaze, who watched with apologetic concern._ _

__“I’m sorry, Hoon,” he said, “I should’ve... I shouldn’t… I’m sorry.”_ _

__Jihoon could only shake his head. He didn’t know what to do._ _

__“I think I should go,” he choked out. Seungcheol nodded._ _

__“Okay.”_ _

__Jihoon’s head spun as he stood up but he pretended to be okay. He avoided Seungcheol’s gaze. He got to the door._ _

__“I’m really sorry, Hoon,” Seungcheol said quietly as Jihoon opened the door._ _

__“Please don’t be,” the boy answered. His voice cracked. Once he was outside and he had shut the door, he started crying._ _

__He was so pathetic. Why was he like this? So he could kill a thousand people but he couldn’t show emotions? It made no sense. He made no sense._ _

__Jihoon wanted nothing more than to be happy. He wanted to live life how everyone else did. He wanted to make the best of the end of the world, to enjoy all the good things left within it, to be okay. But it seemed impossible. Jihoon couldn’t help but think back to when Joshua was alive, and it seemed as though Jeonghan’s whole world revolved around him. How they had danced together at that Christmas party and how they had held each other, the way they kissed and held hands like they were reminding the world that they were in love. At the time, Jihoon had stared in disbelief. But now he wanted nothing more but to make the most of whatever time he had - and his fucked up brain wouldn’t let him. It was frustrating. And now he had probably fucked it with Seungcheol._ _

__Jihoon broke down._ _

__He half collapsed into a kneeling position and hid his face with his hands. He was in the middle of the street, but Jihoon couldn’t find it within him to care. All he could think about was the pain in his chest. The only thing he could do was sob._ _

__When did his emotions get the best of him? Until recently, Jihoon had ignored every feeling he had and life was so much simpler. He just got on with it. But now he had realised that he didn’t want to live like that anymore. He wanted to be someone, and he couldn’t if he didn’t actually feel like anyone. It was so much harder than he could’ve imagined._ _

__“Jihoon?”_ _

__Someone came over and knelt beside him. It was Wonwoo. He rubbed his back comfortingly. Jihoon glanced over and then looked away in embarrassment._ _

__“It’s okay,” Wonwoo said, “you can cry.”_ _

__“Shouldn’t you be with Mingyu?” Jihoon asked, looking desperately for a distraction. He wiped his eyes and sniffed._ _

__“He’s working,” Wonwoo explained with a shrug, “some emergency I’m not qualified for yet, so. What’s up with you?”_ _

__Jihoon shook his head, but Wonwoo was worried._ _

__“Seungcheol hasn’t hurt you, has he?”_ _

__“What? No!” Jihoon wiped his eyes again. He was reminded of when Wonwoo found him in the middle of a flashback, so he figured he could talk to him. “He tried to kiss me but it scared me too much, and I-I kind of freaked out.”_ _

__Wonwoo sighed. He didn’t let go of the boy. He wanted to give him a hug, but he didn’t want to risk scaring him any more. He continued rubbing his back as Jihoon calmed down._ _

__“He knows you’re not particularly stable, Hoon,” he said softly, “he’ll understand.”_ _

__“I wish there wasn’t anything to understand. I really wanted to kiss him.”_ _

__“You’ll get there,” Wonwoo promised, “give yourself time. It’s okay.”_ _

__Wonwoo walked Jihoon home, and then kept him company too. Jihoon told him about the successful parts of his date, and in return, Wonwoo gave him his - although they had barely made it to dinner. It’s what you got when you date the town’s only doctor, he said. It was worth it for the time they got together though. Jihoon managed a smile. At least one of them was happy._ _

__“How did you two meet?” Jihoon asked._ _

__“He looked after me when I broke my leg,” Wonwoo said with a chuckle, “he was his dad’s assistant back then. I think we were about eighteen? He asked me on a date as soon as I was better - oh, and that was after bringing me snacks everyday.”_ _

__Jihoon smiled. Younger Mingyu sounded very sweet. Jihoon sat back, fiddling with his hands, thinking about how Seungcheol visited him everyday when he was in hospital. It always made his day - even if he didn’t admit it at the time. It would’ve been unbearable without him. He was so grateful for everything Seungcheol had done for him._ _

__“Seungcheol put so much effort in tonight,” Jihoon mumbled, “and I ruined it.”_ _

__Wonwoo shook his head. “He won’t blame you for anything, Hoon. I promise.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> important character stuff ig idk sorry its shit i tried   
> thanks for reading love u bye


	26. xxv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was gonna update yesterday but i was like nah it needs proofing and i proofed it today and. it didnt really need much so sorry abt that and also sorry if this is shit

Jihoon didn’t see Seungcheol for a while after Valentine’s day. Neither were avoiding each other. Seungcheol just thought he would need some space and in some ways, he was right. He saw Jeonghan and thus Jeonghan passed on the odd message from him, such as “Seungcheol hopes you’re eating well” and “Seungcheol hopes you’re doing okay”. They were received well enough. Jihoon would nod and ignore the guilt he still felt. 

Now though, he realised the ball was in his court and it was up to him to reassure Seungcheol that he was still happy to dab a hand at their relationship. The longer he left it, the more guilt would build. Sooner was better than later.

But Jihoon couldn’t bring himself to. He sat in bed now darning a pair of socks, violently pushing the needle through to match the anger he had for his own mind. Healing shouldn’t be so difficult. He could hug Seungcheol. He could hold his hand. Seungcheol could kiss his forehead or his cheek, but god forbid he kissed his lips. Jihoon hated himself more and more with every thought. What was the point in it anymore? He felt as though he would never manage a relationship, so why try? Then Jihoon pricked himself with the needle and swore.

He went on another patrol with Jeonghan in the afternoon. It was a nice way to clear his head without feeling awkwardly lonely. Plus they didn’t particularly have to fill the silence like they did when someone visited.

Jihoon kicked every stone on the path and gave simple replies to everything Jeonghan said. It was obvious he wasn’t doing good, but whenever Jeonghan tried to intervene he was greeted with “I’m fine” and nothing else. He gave up. He figured that if Jihoon wanted to talk about it, he would. For now he let him take it out on the rocks on the path and the infected in the distance.

“You know, the longer you leave it with Seungcheol the worse it gets,” Jeonghan piped up.

“I know.”

“It’s been over a week.”

“I know.”

Jeonghan huffed. “He’s getting really worried.”

Jihoon held up his rifle and fiddled with the scope. He shot a few clickers from across the valley. He kept walking.

“You’re telling him I’m fine, right?”

“I’m telling him you always seem a bit out of it.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. Yet another rock fell victim to his boots and fell down the edge. Then Jihoon bent down and picked another up. He used to collect them when he was younger. Plus maybe if he put them in his pocket then he wouldn’t scuff his boots. It had been two months but Jihoon still stomped about in his lovely boots with pride. After years of soggy Converse that hurt his ankles, these were a blessing.

“Your shoes are cute,” Jihoon said to Jeonghan. It was mostly to change the subject, but also because Jihoon had just noticed that he wore Converse too: giraffe patterned, he was almost sure.

“Thanks,” Jeonghan kicked a foot out to admire them himself, “they were from- they were for my birthday last year. He was on a trip for a few days and brought these back for me. Giraffes are my favourite animal.”

“Cute,” Jihoon smiled honestly. He wondered when Seungcheol’s birthday was. He made a mental note to ask him when they next spoke.

As always, they treated the checkpoint as a spot to rest. It was a general lookout building. Jihoon curled up on a blanket on the floor, exhausted from a long walk and a lack of sleep. Jeonghan wanted to say that they didn’t have the time to rest and that the town relied on them for their safety, but he found that he didn’t actually have it in him. He sat down, leaning against the wall, and shut his eyes.

Jihoon woke up with a start an hour later. It had grown dark. Rain fell violently outside and thunder crashed around them. He rubbed his eyes as Jeonghan looked through the window. His face was as blank as usual. Jihoon could never read him.

“We should get going,” Jeonghan said, “Seungkwan and Minghao are already here to swap over.”

Jihoon looked around. Sure enough, Seungkwan and Minghao were here. The latter was leaning against the door frame, throwing his torch in the air before catching it neatly again. He blinked at Jihoon. Jihoon scowled back. Minghao raised his eyebrows. You could’ve cut the atmosphere with a knife. Jeonghan grabbed Jihoon’s wrist and scurried outside where they were soaked within seconds.

“My boots aren’t laced tight enough,” Jihoon whined. They quickly filled with water and it was difficult to walk. He relaced them as quickly as he could - as if it would make much difference. The rain pissed him off. Now he would have to wait for his favourite boots and his favourite hoodie to dry out. His scowl didn’t leave his face.

It was a relief for both of them to reach the town. The streetlamps illuminated their path far better than their torches. They passed through the busiest sections because the two liked to people-watch, and it was all fun and games until they reached the pub. Just as they passed, Seungcheol stepped out.

Jihoon blinked with surprise. Jeonghan looked between the two awkwardly. But Seungcheol, bless his heart, beamed.

“Long time no see,” he greeted innocently, “I was just bringing you dinner, actually.”

Jihoon’s heart melted, then froze up again with guilt. He was left standing with his mouth slightly agape, unsure what to say. Apologise? Thank him? A simple hello?

“I-you-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Seungcheol insisted, his upbeat expression not fading for a second, “it’s okay.”

“No, Cheol…” Jihoon said, and then he sighed because he didn’t know where to go next. Jeonghan patted his shoulder. Seungcheol was holding out Jihoon’s plastic tub of food, so Jeonghan took it and nudged it into Jihoon’s hand.

“I hope you’re eating well,” Seungcheol told him. Jihoon nodded.

“Thank you. I, uh, really appreciate it.”

Seungcheol smiled again and it hurt like a thousand knives. They said a quick goodbye, Jihoon thanked him again, and they split ways. Jeonghan walked Jihoon to his door before they too said goodbye and Jihoon was left alone with his guilt ridden dinner. It was a beef burger. His favourite. And yet, it had never tasted worse.

Jihoon chose an early night. He left his boots by the front door, his hoodie hanging on the back of a chair and dripping onto the floor, and climbed into bed. It was only around 7pm (if he read it right) but he didn’t feel like doing anything. In fact, he wanted to cry, but he couldn’t even do that. Jihoon tossed and turned until the sun came up and the rain finally cleared. And then, at long last, the boy fell asleep.

He woke up with a scream and a knock on the door. For a minute at least Jihoon thought the pounding on the door was his mother’s infected body throwing itself against his bedroom door. He was twelve again, and he was crying.

“Jihoon? It’s Mingyu. Just checking up on you.”

The doctor’s calm tone helped Jihoon to snap out of his flashback. His chest continued to pound but he managed to speak.

“Just a minute,” he said. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to wipe the tears away as well as fully immerse himself back into reality. It was a little easier knowing where he was. He looked around and took note of random things around to the room. He’d read somewhere that it was supposed to help.

Then Jihoon stood up and got to the door. He didn’t even try to fake a happy facial expression. He just stared forlorn up at Mingyu.

“You look well,” the doctor said sarcastically. Jihoon grunted and let him in.

“Have you been crying?”

Jihoon shrugged. “The knock on the door scared me.”

Mingyu blinked, confused. Then he realised. “Oh! Fuck! Sorry, I’ll take note of that one.”

“It’s okay. I have to get over it. Bread?”

Mingyu accepted and Jihoon cut two slices for each of them. In a world without tea or coffee, they had adapted to offering whatever snacks they could spare. Most went with bread and butter, or jam if they had any. Jihoon had neither.

“Did you just wake up?” Mingyu asked through a mouthful of bread. Jihoon nodded. He checked the clock for a good thirty seconds, frowning in confusion. It was 3pm. He raised his eyebrows.

“I slept at dawn,” he explained.

“How was patrol?”

“Got soaked.”

Mingyu snorted. “Yeah, not the best weather. The summer patrols are great though. You’ll love them. Especially the evenings when you can watch the sunset coming back. I’ll get you on one with Seungcheol. How is it with him by the way? Wonwoo told me-”

Jihoon’s groan cut him off. “What is with you all and gossiping? Can’t I have my own personal problems without everyone being in my face about it? It’s fucking annoying. Seungcheol’s all Jeonghan’s talking about. Wonwoo pesters me whenever he passes. I just want to work through it on my own, okay? I don’t want pressure. I don’t… I don’t want help.”

Mingyu was startled to say the least. He held his slice of bread in the air as though he had been frozen.

“I’m just worried about you, Hoon-”

“Don’t be. I’m sick of it.”

He was. He wasn’t used to it. Any protective gaze made him uncomfortable, embarrassed and insecure. He had been left to himself for eleven years and it was strange when someone cared for him.

Jihoon bit into his plain bread with his signature scowl slapped across his face. Mingyu just looked more concerned than before, which further pissed Jihoon off.

“We don’t gossip,” the doctor said quietly, “we don’t chat about you because it’s fun. We… we just express our concerns for you. You might not realise it, but people who care about you naturally worry when you’re not quite yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Jihoon mumbled, but he knew it was no use. He wasn’t fine. He hadn’t even slept normally since Valentine’s day. His nightmares and general flashbacks had increased too. It was the worst Jihoon had felt for a long time.

Mingyu left shortly after, now feeling a little invasive in Jihoon's space. It all suddenly felt a lot worse when he was alone and in silence. The door shut and then Jihoon stared at it for what felt like eternity, fighting back tears. He rubbed his eyes until they were red and raw; then he groaned and collapsed on the table, his head held up by his unsteady hands. He just wanted Seungcheol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip jihoon ig  
> also update on my s worded twt shes back now and i just have two twts now. amazing   
> thanks for reading love u bye


	27. xxvi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought this was ch26 and i was confused in like 10 ways ok enjoy

Jihoon didn’t even leave his home for the next few days. The closest he came to going outside was the one night where Seungcheol left dinner on the doorstep. The boy had already gone by the time Jihoon had opened the door - he made sure of it. The food was a little cold now but he didn’t mind. Apparently. Jihoon stabbed at his pasta, ate maybe a third and then put it away for later. 

Neither Mingyu nor Jeonghan came to check on him. Wonwoo swung by eventually, after maybe a week had passed and no one had any evidence that Jihoon was alive - apart from the vanishing food and sewing supplies from Seungcheol and Jeonghan respectively on the doorstep. So Wonwoo popped by with some old books he’d found as an excuse to see him.

Wonwoo knocked and patiently waited. He knew it would take a while. He spotted movement from the curtains and stared at the ground to avoid any possible awkward eye contact. To his surprise, the door opened. Jihoon had decided he was a little bored and the unexpected visitor flattered him. He didn’t see himself as very close to Wonwoo. He let him in and Wonwoo entered with a smile.

“I found these,” he said, handing out the two books, “and thought you might like something else to do.”

Jihoon took them gratefully: Goodnight Mister Tom and the first Harry Potter book. Wonwoo already had it, but he was missing a few in the middle and was desperate to find the whole series. He told Jihoon he could borrow the next two, or the next four if he could handle the ones missing. Wonwoo actually hadn’t read any of them yet. He was waiting for the full collection.

“Thanks, Won. Means a lot,” Jihoon said honestly.

“I know you’re not in the mood for a lecture but Seungcheol’s worried sick,” Wonwoo sighed, “and Gyu. Even Jeonghan. You know how he’s always so cheerful so people think he’s coping and all? Do you think he thinks he’s fooling anyone, by the way? Anyway, he’s not even bothering with that as much anymore and I think it’s because he’s worried about you.”

Jihoon fiddled with a book cover so that he didn’t have to make eye contact. “I know. I’m sorry, I just… I’m never in the mood to see anyone anymore. I’m fine though.”

“Becoming a hermit doesn’t signal you’re okay. You know it’s March now, right? There’s daffodils and stuff. There’s a walk just west of here that makes a really pretty date. You can find a picnic spot. Gyu and I do it a lot.”

Jihoon sighed when he thought of Seungcheol. “How is Seungcheol?”

“Miserable,” Wonwoo said without hesitation, “Jeonghan’s been on patrol with him and apparently he didn’t say anything the whole time.”

Jihoon’s heart sank. He had assumed Seungcheol was doing quite well. The guilt only increased. It was partially why he’d shut himself at home - he knew how much of a hole he had dug himself now and he couldn’t face the embarrassment of climbing out of it. Sooner was better than later though. Jihoon told himself that everyday.

“I’ll go see him later,” he said quietly, “I do miss him.”

The guilt was becoming unbearable. Jihoon usually refused to think about it. Seungcheol had tried so hard to give him a lovely evening and this was how Jihoon had responded. If he felt like shit, he couldn’t imagine how Seungcheol himself felt.

“That’ll be great,” Wonwoo said, unable to hide the relief.

Wonwoo raided Jihoon’s cupboards and cooked fresh pasta for their lunch. He wanted to see that Jihoon was eating. His face seemed a little slimmer; just as they had gained some weight in them. Once he was satisfied with Jihoon’s wellbeing, he got going.

Jihoon immediately hopped in the shower. He was getting used to the luxury now. The hot water continued to make him jump, though. He scrubbed himself clean, making sure that he would look the best he had done in a while. Thirty seconds were spent prodding his ribs. He wished they wouldn’t stick out so much.

For the first time in two weeks, Jihoon got dressed in something completely clean. This did of course mean it was Joshua’s old clothes, but he didn’t care. He had to roll the jeans up and the thin sweater almost swallowed up his whole hands, so he rolled them up too. Then he laced up his lovely boots and went outside.

The fresh air felt amazing. Jihoon took several deep breaths and admired the streets in the sunlight. Most patches of grass donned daffodils, as Wonwoo had said. He had seen them from his window, but they were better when he was nearby. He debated picking a few but then decided not to ruin them. 

By the time he reached Seungcheol’s, Jihoon’s heart was pounding in his throat. He felt like he was about to throw up. He grew hotter and hotter. It took a good two minutes before Jihoon gathered the courage to knock, and another minute before someone opened.

It was Seungcheol.

He was looking rough. His hair was longer now and stuck in several, knotty directions. Dark circles were embedded beneath his eyes and he still wore his pajamas. Stubble dotted his chin and cheeks. His face seemed slimmer too. Seungcheol looked worse than Jihoon.

“Jihoon,” he said, stunned. “Hi.”

The boy hadn’t planned this far ahead. He stared back with an equally stunned expression. He tried to choke out some words - hi, how are you, I missed you, anything - but nothing came out. He looked at his shoes, at Seungcheol’s bare feet, then back at him. He had nothing to say, so he tried something else despite the feeling in his stomach.

Jihoon cupped Seungcheol’s cheek. He stood up on his tip-toes. He leaned in, and Seungcheol did too. Their lips met and this time Jihoon didn’t freak out.

It felt amazing. The sparks cancelled out Jihoon’s nerves and he didn’t want it to stop. He only knew how to kiss in theory, but it clearly wasn’t Seungcheol’s first kiss and Jihoon was a quick learner. It was everything each of them had ever wanted and more.

Finally they pulled away. Jihoon felt dizzier than before but somehow it was in a good way. He smiled despite the near heart attack.

“It was never you,” he said, “it was just me. I’m really sorry-”

“It’s okay,” Seungcheol insisted, then added with a laugh “except you did choose to kiss me when I look like this.”

Jihoon laughed. “You’re always beautiful, Cheol.”

Seungcheol gave him a quizzical look, then shook his head. “Can you give me maybe like, twenty minutes to clean myself up? Then we can go on a walk or something.”

“That sounds nice.”

Seungcheol let him in so he didn’t have to wait outside. He showered and shaved, forced a brush through his hair and found some clean clothes. He came out looking a lot more like the Seungcheol Jihoon knew and lov-liked.

Jihoon resisted the urge to hold Seungcheol’s hand as they left the cabin. It felt like Jihoon had come home, despite the guilt he still felt. He tried to ignore it and focused on how lovely it was to once again be near his lover.

“Have you been eating this time?” Seungcheol asked.

Jihoon shrugged. “A bit. Thank you for all the meals, by the way. I appreciated it.”

“Of course.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so shit,” the boy sighed, “I can’t explain it, I just-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, Hoon.” Jihoon couldn’t help but note that Seungcheol didn’t sound his usual cheerful self.

“You can tell me I’m a dick.”

“Fine.” Seungcheol said. There was no one around so he felt free to talk so much. “You are a dick. You made us all worry like that with not even a note to tell us you’re okay. You can’t avoid people for weeks at a time, Hoon. People care about you. It’s not fair to worry them so much. I had no fucking idea whether or not you were okay - at least the others saw you a few times after our date. I saw you once and you said fuck all. You left our date without any explanation. It felt like shit. I thought I’d fucked everything up. I thought you hated me. Do you know how much it hurt? It’s like you have no idea other people also feel the effects of your actions.”

Jihoon couldn't look him in the eye as tears welled up at an embarrassing rate. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He had asked for that and deserved far worse. He rubbed them away.

“Growing close to you,” he said quietly, “is the best thing I’ve ever done. But at the same time it’s fucking terrifying. Everyone I’ve ever cared for has died. It’s not that they’ve left me. They _died _. A-and seeing Jeonghan without Joshua… I don’t want that to be me. And I don’t want that to be you either. I can’t bear to lose one more fucking person. I really, really like you, but our relationship scares me and-”__

__“Then what’s the point?”_ _

__Jihoon blinked. “What?”_ _

__“If you’re going to spend every second with me terrified then what’s the point of being together?” Seungcheol asked. “If you- if you’re- if being with me stresses you out then what the fuck are we doing?”_ _

__Jihoon was shocked into silence. He thought he understood. He wanted to yell and scream, shout that he was healing and he was trying his best, that he liked him so, so much and if he could just be patient - but nothing came out. He just stared until Seungcheol shook his head._ _

__“Fuck it,” he said, and he turned around, walking back the way they came and leaving Jihoon alone in the middle of the path. It felt like he had been stabbed all over again._ _

__Jihoon didn’t know what to do. His vision swam and his head spun. It seemed like flames were licking his body and he couldn’t even scream. Something worse than butterflies kicked his insides tore him apart from the inside out. His lungs were about to give up and his heart wouldn’t stop. Finally Jihoon’s body seemed to shut down and he collapsed against the stone-filled path._ _

__

__“I don’t know, he was just on the ground-”_ _

__“Oh god, his face is covered in blood!”_ _

__“I noticed.”_ _

__Jihoon’s eyes fluttered open as Wonwoo lay him down. His head throbbed._ _

__“Hi,” Wonwoo smiled softly, “you’re okay.”_ _

__Everything swirled together so Jihoon closed his eyes again. He felt sick._ _

__Mingyu was quick to fuss about him. He pulled out his first aid kit, dabbing at Jihoon’s wound. A rock had left a bloody gash across his forehead. It had caused half of his face to be covered in trails of blood, but it cleaned up to only be less than an inch long cut. He assumed he was concussed, and that assumption was correct. The wound was closed with butterfly bandages._ _

__“Can you hear me?”_ _

__“Mmm.”_ _

__“Name and birthday.”_ _

__“Lee Jihoon,” he mumbled, “22nd of… Nov-November… 2017.”_ _

__“I don’t know his birthday,” Mingyu said to Wonwoo._ _

__“I thought he didn’t know his surname,” Wonwoo replied._ _

__Mingyu hummed. “He embroidered L Jihoon on the jacket to Seungcheol at Christmas. I’ll ask for his birthday again in a few days and see if it adds up.”_ _

__Mingyu wrote some notes on his notepad and then tucked it safely away in a drawer. He looked at Jihoon with worry. The boy himself looked up, tried to peer around, then promptly threw up. Mingyu rushed over._ _

__Wonwoo found Jihoon’s key in his pocket whilst Mingyu cleaned him up. He walked to his place to collect some things for him, and whilst he was there he knocked on Jeonghan’s door and let him know Jihoon was in the health centre. Jeonghan just nodded sleepily, promised to tell Seungcheol, and told him to give the boy his love. Wonwoo smiled and walked back._ _

__“Clothes, toiletries, books and sewing box,” Wonwoo said, unpacking his backpack, “and love from Jeonghan.” Mingyu nodded his grateful approval. Wonwoo looked away as Mingyu helped Jihoon change into his pajamas. The boy almost passed out again._ _

__“He fell hard,” Mingyu frowned. “Do you think someone hit him?”_ _

__“Who would?”_ _

__“I don’t know, maybe he snapped at Minghao.”_ _

__Wonwoo shrugged. “He’s not bruised though. It’s just his head.”_ _

__Mingyu just sighed, knowing that Jihoon would be here for a few days. He hoped to keep him in for at least a week, to monitor Jihoon’s general mental health more than anything, but he wasn’t sure what excuse he would have. He didn’t think his concussion was quite that bad. Hopefully not. But the boy was fairly out of it. Also, Mingyu had grown quite paranoid since losing Joshua._ _

__“Where did you find him?”_ _

__“The path to the South-West gate. You know the rocky one? I swear kids drop bigger rocks there to trip people up. We need to say something about that.”_ _

__Mingyu agreed. It wasn’t their first incident from that pathway. Usually it was some kid’s knee needing stitches though._ _

__“Hoon, did you collapse?”_ _

__“Mmm.”_ _

__“What were you doing before? Can you remember?”_ _

__Jihoon’s eyes remained closed like he was trying to fall asleep. “With Cheol.”_ _

__Wonwoo and Mingyu exchanged looks. That was weird, they both thought. Wonwoo made a mental note to ask him about it when Jihoon was doing better. Seungcheol wouldn’t have left him on the ground, would he? Surely not. He chewed on his thumbnail worrying. Mingyu swatted at his hand so he picked at his sleeves instead. It was too easy to worry about Jihoon._ _

__Far too easy._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theyre in a pickle huh  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	28. xxvii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been a hot five mins since i last whined about roman numerals  
> anyway fuck roman numerals

Two days passed and Jihoon improved. He was still dizzy so he had to be extra careful when sitting up, and even more careful when he tried to stand. He walked slowly to get anywhere. He was actually well enough to go home if someone was with him (and Jeonghan was willing), but he wasn’t particularly in the mood and Mingyu wasn’t going to argue.

Jeonghan came to see him both days. He asked what happened, but Jihoon didn’t want to talk about it. He hadn’t told anyone yet.

“I still need to tell Seungcheol you’re here,” Jeonghan said, munching on a sandwich, “he’s probably worried.” Jihoon just shook his head and was met with regret. He almost threw up from the sudden throbbing. It was the pain that affected him the most. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut instead.

“When’s your birthday, Hoon?” Wonwoo called from across the room.

“22nd of November,” Jihoon replied, “2017.”

“Nice.” Wonwoo ticked something off in his notebook. “Your surname?”

Jihoon blinked. “I don’t know it.”

“That’s not what you said two days ago.”

The boy looked at him with confusion, then he remembered. “Why?”

“Memory check. It’s a protocol.”

“...Lee.”

Wonwoo nodded and ticked off yet another thing. Neither he, Mingyu, or Jeonghan reacted to the full name of Lee Jihoon and the boy relaxed.

His head still throbbed so he tried his best to fall asleep. He hadn’t managed to get much sleep - last night he mostly lay awake, his mind spiralling, and naps weren’t as easy now that it got dark later and the days were brighter. Mingyu did try to keep the room dark, knowing that the light hurt the patient’s head. The curtains were only thin scraps of fabric though. Jihoon opened his eyes again with a groan.

“Can I have some more painkillers?” He asked, “please?”

Mingyu checked the time, did some maths, and then fetched some ibuprofen for him and topped up his glass of water, both of which Jihoon took gratefully. The painkillers only helped a little bit but it was better than nothing.

Jeonghan had to get going. He was only on his lunch break. Cheerfully, he informed Jihoon that he had patrol with Seungcheol now which meant that the boy would most likely come and see him in the evening. Jihoon doubted it but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t say that Seungcheol would probably see it as a waste of time. He didn’t say that any mention of Seungcheol made him feel sick.

Jihoon decided to lose himself in a book. He started with Harry Potter. He’d already seen a few films with Seungcheol, but apparently books were always better than the film so Jihoon was keen to see if he agreed. A few chapters in and he decided that he did. He had never even been a book person until he moved here.

Did he even want to stay here now? He was mostly here for Seungcheol. Otherwise Jihoon was bored with how much of a repetitive routine there was each day. Nothing changed and he wasn’t allowed on the good patrols. He was still sorely missing the thrill of smuggling. But it wasn’t like he could go back to it now - it had been too long and they definitely assumed him to be dead. Plus Jihoon would have to deal with the shame and blame of Beomju’s death, and they would never believe the scar on his hand after probably demanding to see underneath beneath the covering. He didn’t miss the business. He missed the action. Anyway, he had to stay here in case Mingyu figured out what to do with his immunity.

Jihoon eventually fell asleep. His book flopped on his chest so Wonwoo folded his page and put it to one side for him. The boy slept peacefully until it was time for dinner. He woke up and Mingyu got started on cooking him some soup. Jihoon only ate a little. Sitting up still made his stomach turn even once the room stayed still.

“You have to eat,” Mingyu said, “you’ve lost weight.”

Jihoon responded by gagging. He held one hand up to his mouth, the other holding his stomach. Once he was sure he wouldn’t be sick, Jihoon lay down. 

“You really hit your head hard, huh?” Mingyu commented.

“I think I’m dying,” Jihoon mumbled. The doctor chuckled.

The boy had just closed his eyes to try to sleep again when the door opened. He chose to ignore it, but Mingyu cheerfully greeted the visitor.

“Hey, Seungcheol!”

Jihoon looked up. The bastard Seungcheol was timidly stood by the door fiddling with his sleeves. He gave the boy a small smile, who glared back. Seungcheol gave up and sighed. He came over and sat down by his bed.

“I’m sorry, Hoon.”

Jihoon scoffed.

“I am,” Seungcheol insisted, “I went too far. It was unfair of me. I was just upset that you avoided me and-”

“You could’ve tried to understand,” Jihoon snapped, “I trusted you, Cheol.”

“Hear me out, Hoon-”

“Why should I?”

Mingyu was watching. He exchanged looks with Wonwoo.

“Seungcheol, if you’re causing distress for a patient I have to ask you to leave.”

“I-”

“Hoon,” Wonwoo spoke up, “do you want him to leave?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Seungcheol stared at Jihoon, stunned and defeated. A moment passed before he was able to bring himself to move. He walked out with a red face, watery eyes, and two doctors’ gaze heavy on his neck. The door slammed behind him. It was a while before someone spoke. It was Wonwoo who finally did.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

No answer.

“Was he why you collapsed?”

Still, no answer. Jihoon just glared at the door. He was angry. So angry. And he was so stupid - he didn’t get close to people for a reason. This was the reason. He had opened up his heart, he had let down his walls, and all he got was pain. He found himself sobbing. 

Wonwoo tried to console him, but Jihoon shoved him off. He sucked up the pain in his head and turned away towards the wall. It hurt so, so much. Everything did. His heart had been ripped out from his chest and self loathing thoughts spiralled around his head. Why did he ever let himself grow close to anyone? What made Jihoon think he was worthy of a happy ending? He knew this would happen. He was so fucking stupid.

Jihoon spent the next day mostly pretending to be asleep. Mingyu and Wonwoo tried to talk to him and Jeonghan popped by, but Jihoon either lay with his eyes shut or buried his face in his pillow. He wouldn’t even eat, or take a sip of water. His three friends (after Wonwoo explained yesterday to Jeonghan) quickly adopted a shared desire to punch Seungcheol in the face. Of course, they weren’t sure what happened, but it wasn’t difficult to notice that whatever it was it had impacted Jihoon’s recovery progress, and for that they were livid.

Jeonghan ran some errands and Mingyu had to tend to some meeting with someone somewhere. That left Wonwoo to take care of Jihoon. He perched himself on the neighbouring bed with a gentle sigh.

“I know you’re awake, Hoon,” he said. When Jihoon didn’t react, he kept talking. “Aren’t you bored? You know it’s only 11am? Here, I’ll read to you. You don’t have to listen to me but if you do, then… time might go a bit quicker.” Wonwoo flicked open Jihoon’s book to the folded page. “Chapter seven: The Sorting Hat. The door swung open at once. A tall, black haired witch…”

Jihoon opened his eyes and gently turned his head. Wonwoo noticed out of the corner of his eye and as much as he wanted to acknowledge the gesture, he thought that maybe Jihoon would feel embarrassed. He focused on the book in front of him with an apology for how bad he was at the dialogue. Jihoon didn’t mind. He was bored.

Wonwoo read until Mingyu returned. He had lunch, chugged some water, and kept going whilst Jihoon had (some of) his own lunch. Mingyu watched with fondness for his sweetheart. It was all very cute. Even Jihoon looked a little more peaceful than before.

“Weren’t you saving this book until you had all of them?” Mingyu asked. Wonwoo shrugged.

“Jihoon needs it more than me.”

Jihoon almost smiled. It meant a lot. At least someone hadn’t let him down. Maybe that was it - romance was too dangerous a game to play.

Jeonghan popped by in the evening, and insisted to the two doctors that they should have a dinner date. Jihoon was only concussed, afterall, and he wasn’t difficult to look after. Mingyu reluctantly agreed, but only because each of them had radios if something happened to the boy. Jeonghan shot Jihoon a grin and threw himself in the chair next to him once the door closed.

“Tell me about Seungcheol,” he said.

Jihoon was silent for a moment, but then he realised how desperate he was to feel better and so he let it all out; every word he had been stabbed with and every angry remark he had to say. He didn’t let himself cry though. He had had enough of that. Plus it hurt his head as if his head didn’t hurt enough already.

Jeonghan listened intently. He didn’t realise how much loyalty he felt for Jihoon until then. His brows furrowed and his face in general mirrored thunder. 

“He always seemed so understanding,” he said. Jihoon nodded. Then he swore and lay down. 

“I can’t believe I let myself get close to him,” he mumbled, “I’m not doing that ever again.”

Jeonghan rubbed his hand comfortingly.

Jihoon fell asleep shortly after and it wasn’t long before the doctors returned. Wonwoo couldn’t help but smile at Jihoon, pleased that he was getting some proper rest now. He knew he wasn’t faking it because gentle snores escaped his lips. It was incredible how bad someone could be at sleeping.

Jeonghan stuck around for a little while, made some general small talk, insisted he was fine also, and then said he should probably get going. He left the health centre with one person in mind, his hands in fists. He found him soon enough.

“Hey! Seungcheol!”

Seungcheol was on his way home. He turned around and before he could even greet him, Jeonghan punched him in the face. Seungcheol stumbled back both with the pain and the shock.

“What the fuck?”

“I could say the same to you,” Jeonghan snapped, “how could you do that to Jihoon? You know how he is, you know how hurt he is, you know how damaged-”

“You aren’t telling me anything I’ve not already told myself,” insisted Seungcheol, wiping his nose and checking his hand for blood. There was plenty. 

“You’re such a dick, Cheol,” Jeonghan scoffed, “you’ve always been so nice and understanding to him. You made him feel so safe, so secure… fuck, Cheol, you showed him it was okay to grow close to someone!”

“I know, I know… he even kissed me…”

“He fucking what?”

This time, Jeonghan slapped Seungcheol’s cheek. Passerbys were staring but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that he was well liked by the town, that people put faith in him, that people liked him. Seungcheol had hurt his best friend in the worst way possible.

“When I met that boy,” Jeonghan said, “he wouldn’t even let me help him walk. And then he recovered so well, he made so much progress, he let you get close to him and he trusted you, he put all of his faith in you and that you would never hurt him and never leave him, he even brought himself to _kiss _you and you react like that? You’ve set him right back at square one and for what? Because you got a little sad that he didn’t see you for a few weeks? He barely saw any of us. He was worried he had hurt you. He didn’t want to face that. And then he did, and you… you…”__

__Jeonghan was breathless, his face red from fury. “You’re so pathetic. He’s in pieces, Cheol, and it’s all because of you.”_ _

__Seungcheol’s entire face hurt now but it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. “Just… tell me how I can fix this.”_ _

__Jeonghan shook his head. “This is from scratch, Cheol. You’ve hurt him real bad. He’s barely even sleeping and it’s not because of his concussion.”_ _

__“What’s going to help?”_ _

__“God, fuck, Seungcheol, I don’t know. Just be there for him. Visit him like you used to. Bring him lunch and gently take him out to lunch again. Bring him flowers, bring him books, just… don’t ignore him. Show him that you’re sorry. Don’t just say it.”_ _

__Seungcheol wiped his nose again and then nodded. He stared at the ground. When he looked up again, Jeonghan had left._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this chapter nearly 4 months ago n i can still vividly remember asking my friend "hey should seungcheol be punched or slapped" and i just went for both <3  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	29. xxviii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapters long and messy im apologising in advance  
> around this part of the fic i got quite stuck so stuff gets choppy bc i didnt rly know what i was doing, but this has been proofed like ten times and its the best i could make it and im sorry but anyway

Jihoon’s eyes fluttered open. He first saw Mingyu looking very pleased with himself and his new, darker curtains, which explained why Jihoon’s head hadn’t pulsed with pain when he woke up. To his right, he had a visitor. Seungcheol sat with wide, worried eyes. He gave him a small smile.

“That’s a nasty gash you’ve got there,” he said as casually as he could. It came out small and nervous.

“Thanks,” Jihoon replied plainly, “I had a panic attack and collapsed on the rocks.”

Seungcheol sighed. He ran his hands through his still long hair. “Hoon, I’m so sorry-”

“Save it.”

“If you want him to leave, just say so,” Mingyu said with a pinch of salt. It was clear that he didn’t want Seungcheol here. Jihoon muttered that it was okay. For the time being, anyway. 

“I want to make it up to you,” Seungcheol told him, “I know you don’t trust me, I just need you to believe in me. I never wanted to hurt you so badly. I know you need to heal and to recover, and I’ll be patient for you. I’ll wait.”

Jihoon couldn’t help the tears in his eyes. It pissed him off. He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to be hurt again. Mingyu was watching very carefully.

“That’s it,” he spoke up, “get out, Cheol. His head’s in a muddle as it is.”

“It’s okay,” mumbled Jihoon, “he can stay. For now.”

Seungcheol’s shoulders relaxed. He tried to smile again, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t help but focus on how hurt those eyes were. He was so incredibly angry at himself. Where had those words come from? How had Seungcheol suddenly grown so impatient with him?

“However much time you need, Hoon,” he said, “until you’re ready… I’ll be there through it all. I don’t care how long it takes. You’re worth the wait.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” Seungcheol had never meant anything more. “I swear on my mother’s life: I mean that. It just hurt that I hadn’t seen you. Nothing more.”

Jihoon refused to look at him. He picked at his blanket. A million thoughts ran through his head. He wanted to trust him. But could he? Wouldn’t he be hurt again? Their romance had always felt too good to be true.

“You’re such a dick, Cheol.” He mumbled.

The guy nodded. “I know. You can hit me if you like. Jeonghan did.”

“Jeonghan hit you?”

“Twice. Punched me then he slapped me.”

Jihoon couldn’t help but laugh. He looked at him then and Seungcheol was smiling too. It made each of them feel a little better. Jihoon loved the image of Seungcheol, big tough Seungcheol, being punched by the dainty but depressed Jeonghan on his behalf.

“When did he do that?”

“Last night.”

Jihoon was still chuckling. “Jeonghan’s great.”

“Yeah. I didn’t realise how close you two are.”

“I suppose. I’d never have expected him to hit someone for me.”

“Well, you must be pretty important to him.”

That confused Jihoon. Jeonghan was close to Wonwoo and Mingyu. Jihoon had spotted him with Seokmin quite a few times. He assumed they all placed above him. They didn’t even talk much. They just… hung out. But then maybe that’s what it was. That was definitely what it was for Jihoon: the lack of pressure to be someone. And Jeonghan had said that he liked being with Jihoon because he was the only one he didn’t have to pretend to be happy around. Jihoon smiled. If Jeonghan could have wheat, he would’ve learned to bake just to give him some homemade cookies or something.

“Is he well enough to take out for breakfast?” Seungcheol asked the doctor like it was the good old days.

“Not at all. He’s far too dizzy. I’ll let you know when he is well enough though.”

Seungcheol nodded with disappointment. Jihoon didn’t mind though. He was only just happy enough to have Seungcheol sitting with him, let alone out to lunch - and he felt so much like shit that he wasn’t even sick of this room yet. 

Mingyu was pleased with Jihoon that morning because he managed half of his bowl of porridge rather than three mouthfuls. Maybe it was the extra sugar he’d sprinkled on it rather than Jihoon’s condition improving, although he did look a little less pale when he sat up. He spent a while stirring his food and staring into space.

“Eat up, Hoon,” Mingyu called before being distracted by Wonwoo coming through the door, sucking his thumb and holding a bowl of fruit with his other hand.

“I’m not good at chopping food,” he said plainly.

“Did you slice your finger? Oh, well done.”

Wonwoo caught sight of Seungcheol then and blinked blankly. He didn’t know how to react to him now that he knew the full story after Mimgyu’s questioning earlier on. He kind of felt bad for the guy; he completely understood where Seungcheol was coming from since Jihoon’s unhealthy coping mechanisms didn’t harm only him. It was okay to feel upset and frustrated. Sure, it wasn’t fair to take out on Jihoon himself, but he still felt sorry for Seungcheol too. It couldn’t be easy.

In the end Wonwoo only came over to drop some blueberries in Jihoon’s porridge. The boy stared at them blankly. Slowly, he started eating. Normally Jihoon would’ve offered some to Seungcheol. At least Wonwoo handed him an apple anyway. Finally Jihoon put his bowl to the side. 

“Don’t you have work?” Wonwoo asked Seungcheol.

“Not until eleven,” he replied a little sheepishly, “then I have patrol. W-with Jeonghan.”

Jihoon raised his eyebrows. “Tell him to punch you in front of me next time. And also to try and break that pretty little nose of yours.”

“Will do.”

Wonwoo gave Mingyu a quizzical expression, who filled him in on what he’d missed. 

Seungcheol felt awkward and slightly unwelcome, so he left with a shy get well soon and a promise to check on Heather, Jihoon’s horse. It felt like when they first met, only worse - this time Jihoon trusted everyone around him except for Seungcheol. At least last time he hated everyone. 

It kind of upset Jihoon that Seungcheol wasn’t having a great time now either. He was supposed to be the one who was okay. Jihoon’s rock, perhaps. Now Mingyu and Jeonghan were pissed with him. Jihoon couldn’t help but worry he had been unfair to Seungcheol. If he put himself in his shoes, he would be angry too. But Seungcheol could’ve been nicer about it and Jihoon’s heart hurt like hell, even if he was beginning to understand.

The day went slowly. Wonwoo read some more to him but the boy was getting a little restless. He wished he was on patrol with Jeonghan. It was going to be an insufferably long time until Mingyu would let him on one now. He let out a heavy sigh.

“Bored?” Wonwoo asked with a laugh, “why don’t you try walking about a bit?” He looked anxiously at Mingyu who shrugged. He could always sit down if it wasn’t going well. Wonwoo was just a very nervous new doctor.

Wonwoo helped Jihoon to stand and held him by his waist in case he passed out. He continued to hold him up whilst his head steadied itself and until he felt confident to stand alone. His temple pulsed with each step and the room only swayed a lot, so he made it around to the other side of his bed and had to sit down again. At least he tried, Mingyu insisted, but Jihoon was beginning to feel pathetic. Fucking rocks.

“It’s only temporary, Hoon,” Wonwoo comforted, “you’ll be better before you know it.”

Jeonghan came by at dinner with a hot takeaway meal for each of them. Jihoon took his gratefully - he had ended up skipping lunch. To Jeonghan’s surprise, Jihoon suddenly grinned at him.

“I heard you punched Seungcheol,” he said.

Jeonghan laughed. “My hand slipped.”

“Maybe I’ll feel sorry for him eventually,” Jihoon said softly. Jeonghan smiled back.

“I hope you will. I think he’s sorry. And anyone could see how happy he made you. It was oddly nice to third-wheel on patrols.”

“Really? I thought we made you feel like shit about Josh.”

“...well, everything does. No biggie.”

“Like what?” Jihoon asked, stuffing about five chips in his mouth at once. Jeonghan glanced over to check the others weren’t listening. He hated pity. They were teasing each other on the other side of the room so he decided it was okay.

“He really loved rabbits,” Jeonghan said, “and they run across town a lot. I was watching the clouds this morning and remembered every time he suddenly wanted to cloud gaze. Sometimes I’ll wake up having a bad hair day and I just know that h-he would’ve loved to bully me all day about it. A-and whenever I wear red… he really loved me in red.”

“You do look good in red,” Jihoon smiled softly. The guy was in a red hoodie now. He looked down at himself and then back at Jihoon with a melancholic expression.

“It was his.”

They were quiet for a little bit. Jeonghan picked at his food whilst Jihoon thought of anything to say. The only sound was the chatter from the doctors.

“You aren’t still drinking, right?” Jihoon asked. Jeonghan shrugged.

“Bit of wine here and there. But not as regularly as I was. I promise.”

Jihoon spent the next day trying to walk a little bit further. The furthest he got was the middle of the room before his head spun too much and he fainted. He tried to shower too, but quickly resorted to sitting down in the shower instead and nearly passing out when he stood up. A rough concussion turned out to be pretty annoying, even if he did appreciate the sudden company it gave him. Although now Mingyu was beginning to suspect that it was lack of food and sleep making him so ill.

When Jihoon came out of the bathroom, he quickly noticed Seungcheol sat on his bed. He had brought lunch, and he held a bouquet of flowers. Now he put them gently on the table before helping Jihoon to his bed. Jihoon hated to admit that he appreciated it. Just as he got comfortable, Seungcheol passed over the flowers.

“The least I could do,” he said. 

Jihoon blushed furiously as he took them. Needless to say, he had never been given flowers before. He held them up to his nose before Mingyu found him a vase and they were placed inside and onto his bedside table. They were sweet peas of pink and lilac. Jihoon didn’t admit it, but he thought they were lovely. He fiddled with a flowerhead in his hand until it broke off. From then on he rolled the petal between his fingers. 

The comfortable silence they once had was faltered. It felt awkward and they each desperately wanted to find something to say, but Jihoon wasn’t chatty and his head still ached anyway. Seungcheol felt Mingyu’s eyes on him like they were suspicious. He grew too self conscious to say anything at all. Whatever he said, it probably wouldn’t make Jihoon feel better. Maybe he should wait until he was well enough to go out for lunch.

“I’d better check on Heather,” he mumbled. Jihoon replied with a small okay and the guy left. Suddenly, Jihoon felt incredibly lonely.

He really wanted to forgive Seungcheol, but at the same time he wanted to punch and kick and scream and yell at him. He had trusted Seungcheol so, so much and now whenever he thought of him his chest burned and he felt sick. But what if he did shut him out? Would the pain of missing Seungcheol hurt greater than being let down again?

Maybe Jihoon was being sensitive. Afterall, Seungcheol hadn’t insulted Jihoon himself. He was angry at Jihoon’s mental health which he couldn’t particularly be blamed for. Jihoon was angry at himself too. He could see where he came from: if it was this difficult, what was the point? If he was going to be afraid the whole time, what was the point?

But Seungcheol had said it himself. It was worth the wait. Maybe he did need a long time to heal. Maybe it would be frustrating and would test each of their patience, but perhaps it would be worth it in the end. Jihoon desperately wanted to be happy. He wanted what Mingyu and Wonwoo had. Fuck, he even wanted what Jeonghan and Joshua had had. The hurt Jeonghan felt now showed how loved he had been and how happy - Jihoon thought it better to live heartbroken than to live lonely. At least at some point Jeonghan had felt that embrace, that warmth, that love. At some point, Jeonghan had been able to see a future full of love, happiness, perhaps marriage and a family. Jihoon wanted even just to be able to picture that for himself. 

And maybe it was worth the risk.

Now at a little more peace with himself, Jihoon ate better and slept better. His condition quickly improved with it although some minor dizziness remained. It wasn’t too bad and so Jihoon was considered well enough to go home, as long as someone stayed with him. So Jeonghan temporarily moved in. It was much nicer to work with some company in between Jeonghan’s shifts, despite how bad Jihoon felt for Jeonghan having to sleep on the sofa.

“I finished my sudoku,” Jeonghan said.

Jihoon looked up from his darning. “Let me check.”

The paper was handed over and Jihoon examined it carefully. He loved sudokus. Before this town, it was the closest he’d had to a hobby. His eyes scanned the paper.

“You’ve got two fours in your middle left box, and two nines in the far left row. Vertical.”

“Fuck.”

Jihoon turned back to his work. He wasn’t expected to work yet, of course, but he was just so _bored _. He hadn’t even seen Seungcheol since he came with flowers. He hoped he was alright, but he wasn’t going to press. Not after he had avoided him for weeks too. It was only fair that Seungcheol built his own boundaries.__

__“Okay, have I got it now?”_ _

__Once again, Jihoon looked over Jeonghan’s sheet. He finally nodded._ _

__“I think so. Good job.”_ _

__“Great. Can we go for lunch now? If you feel you can walk far enough.”_ _

__“Yeah. If I faint just leave me on the ground, it’s all good.”_ _

__Jeonghan chuckled and grabbed his (aka Joshua’s) jacket. Jihoon followed him out._ _

__Living with Jeonghan, Jihoon had realised how little he actually knew about him. He felt like the two were close, but they never talked. They sat there in comfortable silence with the occasional melancholic sigh. They bonded that way. Jihoon had no idea who Jeonghan was when it came down to it._ _

__They grabbed a takeaway lunch from a cafe Jihoon had never been to before, and then they walked out of town. Jeonghan knew of a cute pond, so they had a small picnic. Jihoon was still trying to think of questions to ask to get to know his friend. He had never gotten to know someone before though, so he didn’t know how small to start or how big to go. Jihoon was beginning to realise how inadequately socialised he was. He really was a pathetic excuse for a human being. And he got to be the immune one?_ _

__“What’s your favourite colour?”_ _

__“Purple.”_ _

__“Fruit?”_ _

__“Strawberries.”_ _

__“Song?”_ _

__Jeonghan shrugged. “No preference. I like whatever’s on. What’s with the small talk? Coward. Ask me something dramatic.”_ _

__Jihoon snorted. “Okay, then, uh… what’s the… worst thing you’ve ever done?”_ _

__Jeonghan stared blankly at the grass. He was thinking hard. Jihoon wondered if he was contemplating the truth._ _

__“Shua and I ran away together once,” Jeonghan said, “for maybe a year. We did some pretty fucked up shit to survive. It’s not like we ate anyone though.”_ _

__“Like, murder shit?”_ _

__“Yeah. A fair amount of people too.”_ _

__“Did you ever torture anyone?”_ _

__“...did you?”_ _

__“Um…”_ _

__For some reason, Jeonghan laughed. “That’s a yes.”_ _

__“Well, I… it was just… um… for example, if I needed information, I’d stab them in the knee or something, tie their hands up, then make them hold the knife in their mouth so their blood marked the location. If they had a buddy I’d make them point on the map before I let them make a mark though. Then I’d kill them anyway. I’m not proud of it. It always felt like the best way at the time. It was certainly fast, I won’t lie.”_ _

__“Did it work?”_ _

__“Every time.”_ _

__Jeonghan raised his eyebrows. “What were you doing?”_ _

__“Smuggling.”_ _

__The guy was impressed. He puffed his cheeks out._ _

__“What about you?”_ _

__Jeonghan shook his head. “We swore not to talk about it.”_ _

__Jihoon understood. He was only willing to talk about his past to those he trusted completely._ _

__“I get it. Don’t tell anyone I was a smuggler, okay? Only Cheol knows.”_ _

__“Of course.”_ _

__Jihoon turned back to his sandwich, munching and thinking carefully. Then he suddenly looked at Jeonghan._ _

__“You’ve been saying Josh’s name.”_ _

__Jeonghan stared back. He seemed like he was fighting a smile. “Yeah, I have. And he preferred Shua.”_ _

__Jihoon couldn’t help but grin. It was nice watching Jeonghan heal, even if it was a little thing like saying Joshua’s name. He was also a little bit more cheerful. It was great to see glimpses of Jeonghan’s personality. Partially why Jihoon didn’t feel like he really knew Jeonghan was because he had only gotten to know him once half of him had been ripped away. Before Joshua, Jihoon had barely spoken to him at all. He had only met him here and there._ _

__Jihoon knew he wasn’t the same person as he was back then. When he’d had a panic attack over a gun… refused to eat before someone else had eaten from the same plate… he suddenly realised how far he had come. He had even been hurt and willing to forgive. Just three months ago, that would’ve been it. He would’ve left town altogether without looking back, blocking everything from his memory, forcing himself to move on._ _

__It was safe to say that Jihoon was proud of himself._ _

__

__The next day, Jihoon had the morning to himself. Jeonghan left at six (waking Jihoon up in the process) for patrol with Seungcheol and Minghao. He would be gone until just after midday. As lovely as the company was, Jihoon was a little excited about it. He loved his space. His own company suited him just fine. Once Jeonghan was gone, Jihoon popped on some music and got on with a sudoku. It was some duo named AKMU, and he found that he really enjoyed their albums. They were therapeutic._ _

__Jihoon then finished off the dress he had been making for a few days now. It was a pretty floral pattern that he had found, so he knew it would sell for a lot of bullets, since it was both a new item and patterned. Decent patterns were extremely difficult to come by. Usually new clothes were plain and overall kind of gross. Jihoon thought that was incredibly boring though. That’s why he had fashioned a dress. He folded it up ready for Jeonghan to collect later._ _

__To pass the time, Jihoon went for a walk. He found himself at the medical centre. Wonwoo was surprised and worried to see him, but Jihoon insisted that he was fine - just hadn’t seen the guy in a while. Mingyu was out collecting new supplies from Soonyoung. Jihoon had only met Soonyoung twice, but he sounded fun. Jeonghan had already told him many tales of Soonyoung’s raids - he was known in the village for risking his life in idiotic ways for the smallest of equipment. Originally Jihoon had assumed he was cocky, but apparently he was just stupid in the nicest way possible._ _

__Before long, Mingyu had returned and Wonwoo helped to pack things away. Jihoon threw himself on the sofa and chatted with them. They were interrupted by a buzz on Mingyu’s radio and someone’s rushed voice._ _

__“Slow down,” Mingyu said, “and try to breathe. What’s happened?”_ _

__It was Jeonghan._ _

__“They - trespassers - same jackets as the one’s who killed J… Joshua… they attacked us we had to run but - but Seungcheol wasn’t quick enough and-”_ _

__“Is Seungcheol hurt?”_ _

__“I don’t know!”_ _

__“How- what?”_ _

__“They took him.”_ _

__“What direction?”_ _

__“E-east.”_ _

__The hospital door slammed shut. Jihoon had gone._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading love u bye


	30. xxix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeehaw

Jihoon had never run faster in his life. The wind stung his face until his cheeks and nose turned ruby red, but nothing could have fazed him. He shoved past people in the stables, grabbing some reins and quickly securing them to Heather’s face once he had reached her. There was no time for a saddle. He had gone bareback before - he could do it again. 

Jihoon ordered Heather to gallop, and gallop she did. His backpack against his spine matched the jostle of his body on his horse’s back. His heart felt as though it would rip out of his chest, both from the riding and the fear. Twice he had had to save Seungcheol’s life. And now he was alone with the bastards who killed Joshua. What if he died? They weren’t even on good terms. Jihoon had only kissed him once. Seungcheol had no idea what he meant to Jihoon. He couldn’t die. Not yet.

He followed the horse tracks going east. Jihoon felt sick. One of these could be marking Seungcheol’s last journey. The way to his death. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Seungcheol wasn’t strong enough. If they were torturing him, for fuck knows what, Jihoon knew that the poor thing wouldn’t be able to take it. He would crack. He would crash. He would get himself shot.

Jihoon thought back to Jeonghan just the day before. He said he and Joshua had run away and caused so much harm. What if they had what Jihoon had always feared for himself? Groups desperate to kill them? After all, one had killed Joshua and tried to kill Seungcheol too. Maybe it was to weaken and hurt Jeonghan. Jihoon groaned. They were fucked.

Heather pushed past bushes and over logs, fences, through deep puddles and across rivers, following the tracks that led back home. Jihoon could only assume they were from Minghao and Jeonghan. He could only hope.

The tracks took him across fields and to an abandoned neighbourhood. Jihoon crashed his way through the rubble in the road, now following the mud tracks across the shattered tarmac. The nausea grew and Jihoon wouldn’t have been surprised if he passed out. 

The road turned into a dirt path. Jihoon continued following it, but came to a stop at the two men on the road. One was on the floor, looking barely conscious. The other was fussing over him.

“Please help,” said the better off one, “he’s ill… he needs medicine.”

Jihoon recognised those jackets. And he saw the map sticking out from the pocket. He slowly dismounted Heather and approached them like he wanted to help. Then suddenly, he took out his knife and stabbed each man swiftly, one in the shoulder and the other in the leg. He took the opportunity to grab the map. He unfolded it with just a quick glance, kicking the men away from each other as he did so.

“You,” Jihoon showed the map to the guy lying on the ground. He angled himself so that the other guy couldn’t see. “You have one of my guys.”

“We don’t!”

“Shut up,” Jihoon snarled, “I know you do. Point on the map where they’re taking him.”

The guy didn’t move. Jihoon kicked him right in the stab wound on his shoulder. “Now!”

The fucker whimpered, and weakly pointed. Jihoon nodded. Then he slit his throat.

“Hey, fuck you,” his friend yelled, “he gave you what you asked for!”

Jihoon walked over to him. It was his turn. Jihoon crouched down. “Now you. Point where you’ve taken my guy.”

“Fuck no-” his protests was interrupted by a scream. The knife was in his knee. Jihoon stared at him with a face of thunder. 

“Point. To. The map.” And he twisted the knife.

“Shit! Fuck you, man. He- he’s there.” He pointed just as weakly as his friend had. They matched up. 

Jihoon stood up, marked the spot with the bloody knife, scanned it, and then calmly folded it up and put it in his own pocket.

“Thank you, darling,” he smiled sweetly. Then he treated him to a bullet in the head. Jihoon threw himself onto his horse and he was back on his way. 

The killing only fuelled the adrenaline and his determination. His hands were covered in blood, none of which was his own, and suddenly he felt like his old self. Only this time he had something more than his own survival to fight for. 

Seungcheol was so sweet, so naive. He deserved to live. If it came down to it, Jihoon would die for him.

No journey was complete without meeting the infected. Jihoon swore. It became harder to control his horse, especially now he had to shoot as he rode. This was a bit that was far easier with a partner. It didn’t even matter if he got bitten, but it would hold him up by at least a minute and that did matter. That minute was life or death.

The spot marked on the map was a hut on the edge of the forest. Of course, Seungcheol’s backup was expected, so Jihoon slowed Heather down early and attached her reins to a fence post. He pulled out his bow and arrow. He hoped he wouldn’t be too rusty. He aimed at the two guards with a sharp breath.

Bullseye. Jihoon grinned.

“Eunjae? Holy fuck! Where the hell did...”

Jihoon had to aim again quickly. He missed and he swore. Second arrow did it. He scurried past the bodies (taking his arrows back) and gently lifted the window open. He liked being little and skinny sometimes. It didn’t take much of an opening for Jihoon to throw himself through, even with his backpack.

There were people there too. Jihoon rolled his eyes. A quick slit of the throat between sneaking around sorted them out.

Then someone screamed. Jihoon’s ears perked up as though he was a dog, and that scream was all he could focus on. Someone took the opportunity to grab his neck.

“Don’t fuck with me,” Jihoon snarled coldly. The girl held his neck with one arm and a gun to his head. Luckily, he had the knife in his hand. He aimed blindly and they both fell to the floor. Jihoon finished her off and kept going.

There were two more people in the next room and they were killed like clockwork. Easy targets.

Now the only way was down some stairs. Jihoon went down carefully. He couldn’t particularly sneak, and no one could estimate whether or not they would be creaky. But the basement was only one room, so Jihoon hovered at the top in a crouched position, just enough to see what was going on. As always, his gun was ready in his hand.

“Bastard’s not budging,” a tall figure muttered. His build was muscular, but he didn’t scare Jihoon. He had tackled worse.

“That’s because I’m telling the truth,” their victim cried, “I don’t know anything about him!”

It was Seungcheol alright. Jihoon let out a small gasp as he peered through the banisters. The poor thing was slumped against the wall, his face bloody and his body probably just as bruised, considering the boot marks on his clothes. His lip was bleeding too. His usually bright eyes were dull now, and squinted with pain. They locked with Jihoon’s, who held a finger to his lips. Seungcheol seemed to relax slightly.

“If you were parading around with that Firefly, then you know shit about him.”

“Fuck’s sake, dude, I didn’t even know Jeonghan _was _a Firefly!”__

__Jihoon’s eyes widened. The information barely had time to seep in though, because the fucker kicked Seungcheol roughly in the face. Jihoon fired his gun. The man fell to the floor, bleeding from his head._ _

__Jihoon had to act fast. He was spotted quickly as the small group (of maybe four or five) looked around for the shooter. Jihoon rushed down the stairs and grabbed the nearest one by the neck. He shot swiftly and moved to the next one, who put up a fight. Jihoon had the advantage: they had only their fists to fight with. Jihoon fought, struggling but remaining fierce and others pulled at him. He still had his gun in his hand and usually he would’ve fired wildly, but he couldn’t risk hurting Seungcheol. He aimed only when he was close to flesh, and the second guy went down. Just as Jihoon stabbed the last girl in her stomach, something caught his eye._ _

__The guy Jihoon had first seen held a crow bar, and it was raised above his head. He was aiming for Seungcheol. The poor boy wasn’t looking. His eyes were squeezed shut and Jihoon couldn’t tell if he was oblivious or too weak to fight._ _

__Jihoon flew forward, but it was too late. Seungcheol let out an excruciating scream and doubled over. Jihoon shot the bastard who hit him in the chest several times and still didn’t feel any better for it. The crow bar fell to the floor and Jihoon grabbed it. He held it high above his shoulders. Then he swung. He swung until the man before him was a bloody pulp, unconscious and unbreathing._ _

__“Jihoon?” Seungcheol whimpered, “Jihoon… oh my god. You came.”_ _

__Jihoon dropped the weapon and came to Seungcheol’s aid. His hand reached for Jihoon’s and each of them relaxed just a little bit. Jihoon cupped Seungcheol’s bloody cheek._ _

__“We need to get going,” he whispered._ _

__Jihoon helped Seungcheol to stand. He went up behind him in the stairs, hand on his back, acting as a possible cushion if the boy fell. Seungcheol almost collapsed at the top, but they didn’t have time for Jihoon to fuss over him. More people were most likely coming. Jihoon threw Seungcheol into his arms bridal style and ran towards Heather, who was still hidden amongst the trees. Jihoon helped Seungcheol up before jumping in front of him._ _

__“I didn’t have time for a saddle,” Jihoon said, “so I hope you can manage bareback. Try to cling with your knees and thighs and hold onto me.”_ _

__The way home felt both shorter and longer than the way there. Seungcheol held tightly onto Jihoon, leaning his head against his back and whimpering with pain at every bump. Jihoon wanted to comfort him, but he needed to focus on following his tracks home._ _

__The guards at the gate stopped them for their identities as well as the horse’s name (apparently there was a horse database in times of need) and they were let in with a radio call to Mingyu. Jihoon guided Heather all the way to the hospital doors. Mingyu and Wonwoo were already waiting._ _

__Mingyu helped Seungcheol down, commenting that his nose was definitely broken. Seungcheol’s legs buckled as he landed._ _

__“He’s had a crow bar to the stomach,” Jihoon explained breathlessly, jumping off of his horse as Mingyu lifted Seungcheol up. Jihoon attached Heather’s reins to the neighbouring fence post and followed the others inside._ _

__Jeonghan was inside, sitting on the edge of a bed and biting his nails. He had taken a beating at some point too, but he was nowhere near as bad as poor Seungcheol. He looked anxiously at him before locking eyes with Jihoon. And suddenly it sank in._ _

__Jeonghan was a Firefly. The militia group who revolted violently, bombing entrances to QZs and killing anything that moved in an act of rebellion. Jihoon had gotten into trouble with Fireflies more than a few times. They made his life a living hell in the smuggling business._ _

__For now, Jihoon focused on Seungcheol. The boy lay in bed, his eyes shut and breathing heavily from all the pain. Mingyu lifted up the guy’s shirt to reveal his bruising abdomen. Blotches of purple and red had already begun to decorate his skin._ _

__“Internal bleeding,” Mingyu sighed._ _

__“Will he be okay?” Jihoon asked nervously._ _

__“I’ll have to keep a close eye on him. I have no way of monitoring the severity, so… we’ll just have to hope for the best.”_ _

__Seungcheol opened his eyes then, suddenly scared. Mingyu quickly reassured him. Jihoon tightly held his hand for some extra comfort. Seungcheol squeezed back._ _

__Mingyu assessed the damage to Seungcheol’s face. He cleaned off the blood as gently as he could, but so many little cuts had emerged that it was hard not to set off the stinging. Seungcheol managed. It was nothing compared to his stomach. Even his forming black eye couldn’t phase him._ _

__“Thanks for saving me, Hoon,” Seungcheol breathed once Mingyu had finished his checks. Jihoon blinked._ _

__“Well, I wasn’t going to leave you to die, was I?”_ _

__Seungcheol managed a smile. “You’re vicious, by the way.”_ _

__“Thank you! I try my best.”_ _

__There was a lot to discuss, but neither Jihoon, Jeonghan or Seungcheol wanted to in front of Mingyu or Wonwoo. The doctors had many questions too, of course, but they decided to leave it a few days. They each needed some rest._ _

__“What happened to Minghao?” Jihoon asked but not really caring._ _

__“With Jun,” Jeonghan answered._ _

__“I’m guessing it was his idea to run.”_ _

__“Mm. He wouldn’t let me chase them. It was me they were after, so… I’m so fucking sorry, Cheol. I should’ve-”_ _

__“No, it’s okay.”_ _

__Mingyu and Wonwoo switched quizzical expressions._ _

__“What did they want with you?”_ _

__“I killed some of their guys, didn’t I?” Jeonghan said, and he and Jihoon silently locked eyes._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet  
> i tried my best to explain the fireflies for those who havent played the game but i dont think i did very well even tho i Literally used the tlou wiki but anyway  
> havent plugged my twt in a while its 24hwoozi or wooziberries whichever u want  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	31. xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda short chapter today bc that is what ive written apparently

The role reversal was strange but Jihoon welcomed it. He enjoyed having a reason to see Seungcheol everyday again. He’d pop by with takeaway dinner, his needlework in his backpack, and sit by Seungcheol’s bed sewing away with some music playing. Jihoon loved it, actually - although that was easy for him to say since poor Seungcheol spent the time trying to sleep through the pain.

“Morning, sunshine,” Jihoon said. Seungcheol’s eyes fluttered open somewhere around 10am. He had slept in. He gave Jihoon a small smile. A proper smile hurt the scratches as well as the bruise and swelling around his left eye. It wasn’t quite the best time to be Seungcheol. He loved the fuss from Jihoon though, if he was being honest.

“Hi.”

Mingyu and Wonwoo were currently on a date. It had taken a lot of convincing and Wonwoo had left Jihoon his radio in case Seungcheol took a turn for whatever reason. He was doing fine, though. Then Jeonghan came in. Jihoon stared at him.

“Hey, Firefly.”

Jeonghan stood stiffly. 

“Ex-firefly,” he corrected in a small voice. “I threw the pendant necklace into the ocean years ago. As did Shua.”

Jihoon watched his every move with suspicion. His band of people hated Fireflies with a passion. The two groups both enjoyed killing people without reason and unsurprisingly, that caused a lot of conflict.

“It was the year we ran away,” Jeonghan huffed, “I already told you, I’m ashamed of everything we did-”

“And now you’re happily settled here, with that group knowing where you are, putting everyone here in danger.”

Jeonghan rubbed his face with his hands.

“I can’t leave,” he said, “my dad needs me. And I do the stuff no one else wants to do for a reason. A pretty obvious one.”

“Explain to him-”

“He’d kill me.”

“They’ll kill us!”

Jeonghan shook his head. “They’ll kill me. I fucked with them. If they come for me I’ll hand myself in.”

“You didn’t in that raid.”

“Leave it, Hoon,” Seungcheol mumbled, “worry about it later.”

Jihoon huffed, but finally he nodded. Seungcheol had enough on his plate without his friends arguing.

Seungcheol gently tugged on Jihoon’s arm until he climbed into bed with him. Then he snuggled into his side, taking in his smell and his warmth. He had missed him. 

There was no way to describe how Seungcheol had felt upon seeing Jihoon on that staircase. It was more than realising help had arrived. It was realising that Jihoon still cared. That Jihoon would still risk his life for him. And the lengths he went to to protect him… it meant everything to Seungcheol. Even though he had hurt him, Jihoon was still more than ready to kill if it meant Seungcheol would live.

Yet Jihoon hadn’t even thought about it. There was no option. Whether or not he was ready to acknowledge it, Seungcheol had quickly become his whole world. He was the only reason Jihoon was happy. Yes, he was still angry and upset with him, but Jihoon had soon realised that he needed him. He didn’t know how to say this to him so he kissed him on the forehead. Seungcheol managed a smile.

“How’s the stomach?” Jihoon asked. He rubbed circles into the boy’s hand.

“Fine.”

“Mm? Really?”

“Hurts like fuck.”

“Thought so,” Jihoon said, and he pushed his hair back, “you’ll get used to it and then it’ll begin to improve. I promise.”

“It better. I want to go out for lunch with you.”

Jihoon couldn’t help but smile. He kept stroking Seungcheol’s hair. He had missed him.

The door opened and Wonwoo and Mingyu strode in. They were each pleased to see the pair before them getting on again. Especially for Jihoon.

Seungcheol soon fell asleep. Yesterday’s drama had easily worn him out for a lifetime. Jihoon rubbed circles onto his hand until soft snores began to escape his lips. He left quietly with Jeonghan.

Jihoon had his weapons with him (of course) and so he invited Jeonghan on a walk. Jeonghan was a little bit nervous. He left the conversation to Jihoon to initiate and it felt like agony. It was maybe fifteen minutes until Jeonghan changed his mind and said something.

“I didn’t help in the raid because I was depressed,” he admitted, as though their previous conversation was seconds ago, “and I couldn’t bring myself to. I was hurting a lot that night. I know that was selfish and-”

“It’s a good enough excuse,” Jihoon mumbled. 

Jeonghan sighed. “Look, Shua and I didn’t really know what we were getting into. He had connections and we were bored of the town. But we hated it and came back. Our pendants are in the ocean and the only ones who know - or knew - us are the other ex-fireflies, since it shut down. Did you leave any of that group alive?”

“No.”

“Then we might be okay. You hate this town anyway, why do you care?”

It was Jihoon’s turn to sigh. “I don’t hate it. It’s just boring. It’s the closest I’ve ever known to peace. There’s people here I care about. Fuck, Han, I even care about you. The fireflies did some fucked up shit. There’s plenty of people who want your guts and trust me when I say I know how that feels.”

“Is that why you pretended not to know your surname?”

Jihoon nodded. “Yeah.”

Jeonghan grabbed a nearby stick so he could stab the ground as they walked. 

“It doesn’t matter whether I stay here or leave,” Jeonghan said, “except it’s safer for everyone if I stay. If anyone comes for me, I’m here. I hand myself in and the town lives. If I’m not here… they’ll search for me. Hurt the people here as they do it. That’s how Joshua and I justified staying.”

Jihoon didn’t say anything else. He couldn’t be angry at Jeonghan for what he’d done when Jihoon had done similar and worse. And he supposed Jeonghan had a point.

“Just hand yourself in before they hurt can Seungcheol,” Jihoon mumbled. 

Jihoon found himself knitting until late at night. He was making a cardigan. He was making up the pattern as he went along. Earlier that day Jihoon had stumbled upon a library in the town that he had never seen in his life, and he took out a random book that happened to have an old polaroid photograph slipped into it. It had fallen out onto his bed. The image was of a pretty woman, blonde hair and a slightly curled fringe, and although it was faded Jihoon could just make out that she wore a white cardigan with dark stripes along the hem lines, and stars embroidered into the elbows. Now Jihoon was making it, but his best combination of colours was beige and a dark red. It would do, he decided. He made the pattern up as he went along and hoped for the best.

Jihoon couldn't stop thinking about what he would say to Seungcheol. They needed to talk. As much as Jihoon had remembered of his love - no, not love - his admiration? Adoration? Of Seungcheol, he had still hurt him. Jihoon knew that once the gratefulness of Seungcheol still being alive wore off he would feel bitter and hurt again. The automatic admiration he had felt with him today annoyed him. He was only letting himself get hurt again.

It was like a war in his head. No matter what option he chose, it was wrong. Letting himself be happy was the same as letting himself be hurt, but recently Jihoon experienced the inconvenience of having convinced himself that pushing people away would only make him miserable for his entire life and had thrown him pretty far down that road already.

Jihoon was beginning to think that he could never truly be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this might be my messiest chapter  
> also ya jihoon was knitting a taylor swift cardigan what about it  
> ok well thanks for reading love u bye stan taylor swift


	32. xxxi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short again soz u get what u get

Seungcheol lay on the sofa now, his head in Jihoon’s lap, wrapped in a knitted cardigan that was a little big for him but had beautiful stars sewn into the elbows. He traced the thread now, back and forth across each section. 

After a long two weeks in the hospital centre, Mingyu had finally deemed Seungcheol well enough to go home. His bruises had cleared up, his stomach no longer hurt, and he was almost not tired all the time. It was nice to be home, especially with Jihoon. He had been greeted with a pretty cardigan that had been sat folded on Jihoon’s table for at least a week.

But Jihoon felt sick. He had stopped running his hands through Seungcheol’s hair a good half hour ago.

“We still need to talk, Cheol,” he said quietly. 

Seungcheol sat up. He knew. Although Jihoon was usually affectionate, hesitation was always behind his eyes. He stared at anything that wasn’t near Jihoon.

“Where should we start?” He asked, hoping Jihoon would go easy on him. His voice was soft as if this had hurt him equally.

“Tell me your thoughts,” Jihoon said, “because I’m still piecing mine together.”

Seungcheol nodded. He fiddled with his hands like Jihoon always did, and as the boy was doing now. Then he rubbed his face and scratched his neck.

“When I said all of that,” Seungcheol started at last, “I was just tired and upset and angry. I hadn’t seen you in weeks and I missed you. I was worried too. Then you showed up and you were fine. And that just hurt for some reason, you know?”

“...I know.”

“Good. Because it hurt that you had just left like that and then avoided me for weeks. Then you acted like it was nothing, and like you were fine, and it made me mad. I know it’s how you cope but… it’s not healthy for you or anyone who cares for you. But I’m sorry for taking it out so badly on you. Like it was your fault. I don’t blame you. It just gets frustrating sometimes, but that’s not to say I’m not willing to help you through it. I didn’t mean it when I said there wasn’t any point with us. At all. And it-it’s okay if you need to build up trust again. I understand. I’ll wait for you.”

Jihoon was nibbling on his thumb. It was bleeding now, and he was beginning to taste the blood, but he only pulled it away when he could conjure up some words.

“I avoided you because I felt guilty,” Jihoon said at last, “and embarrassed. And for a while I felt like you deserved better than me, but then you kept bringing me food and caring for me and I… I thought through everything you’ve ever done for me and I felt better again. Then I acted fine because I wanted to pretend nothing happened because I missed you so much. I wanted to pick up where we left off. Then you said all that, and it hurt like fuck.”

“I know, and I’m so-”

“But it hurt more that you almost died,” Jihoon continued, appearing to have found his conclusion as he spoke, “and it hurt more that I almost lost you forever. I don’t have a whole lot to live for, Cheol. I’m not really anyone. But you make me really happy, and I hadn’t realised you could enjoy life until I met you. So I really, really want to forgive you, Cheol. I’ve not got anyone else. Please don’t let me regret trusting you. Not again. And I’ll try my best to work through things without hurting you either.”

The two finally made eye contact, and Jihoon saw that Seungcheol had begun to tear up. 

“You mean everything to me, Hoon,” he said, “you’re all I have too. I don’t get on as well with anyone else.”

Jihoon managed a small smile. Then he gathered up an ounce of courage to kiss Seungcheol on the cheek. It was very quick and his chest thudded afterwards, but Seungcheol smiled back and Jihoon felt just a little bit better.

He had to keep reassuring himself as Seungcheol timidly rested into his side. All couples fought, he told himself. This was just their first argument. A small hurdle. All was okay.

Chan returned home and for once didn’t retreat to his room. He pulled a chair from the table, so as not to disturb the couple on the couch, and sat with them to watch the film on screen. It was nice to see the two together again, even if Jihoon did look a little shell shocked.

Jihoon’s heart didn’t seem to want to stay calm so the boy got going once the film was done. He let Seungcheol kiss him on the cheek before he left. 

Before he did leave though, Jihoon agreed to a dinner date the next day. He was both looking forward to it and dreading it. It took several reminders of how happy Seungcheol could make him to begin getting ready and pick an outfit. As a compromise for god-knows-what, Jihoon didn’t bother too much with looking nice. He left his hair messy and threw on one of Joshua’s hoodies that he didn’t care much about. He put on a smile when Seungcheol arrived at his door.

Jihoon reminded himself of all of Seungcheol’s good qualities and why he liked him so, and then reminded himself of how much more shit he deserved than what Seungcheol gave him anyway, and how Seungcheol maybe wasn’t entirely in the wrong. Somehow this made Jihoon feel a little better.

They walked side by side with Seungcheol playfully nudging the boy’s side. Jihoon shoved him back quite happily, then apologised when he winced. He forgot that his stomach was still a little sore.

“We should probably eat in more,” Seungcheol said as they approached the restaurant, “this can’t be healthy.”

“Hm. It’s nice though.”

“I can cook. I can make a neat lasagne. Have you ever had lasagne?”

“Nope. I’ve never been poisoned by cocky chefs either,” Jihoon said with a laugh.

“Honestly, I’m a good chef if I try. I could start my own restaurant. Choi Seungcheol’s… snacks?”

“Okay, Choi Seungcheol,” Jihoon smiled teasingly, opening the door and holding it open for Seungcheol.

“Alright, Lee Jihoon.”

Jihoon didn’t notice it, but Junhui’s eyes flicked towards him upon hearing his full name.

Junhui stood at the bar as he always did, looking Jihoon up and down. The fact that he was Minghao’s boyfriend suddenly popped into Jihoon’s memory and the boy felt a little uncomfortable. He realised then that the two had never properly spoken before. Maybe Minghao was just with the wrong guy and Junhui was kinder.

“It’s Jihoon, right?” Junhui asked. 

Jihoon nodded. He looked at Seungcheol with a quizzical expression, but he wasn’t thinking anything of it.

“I knew a Jihoon once,” continued the barman, uninvited, “not personally. More like I knew of him. Must’ve been about ten years ago now... my family moved across the country. My dad was the head of a wanted organisation so we had to move carefully.”

A chill ran down Jihoon’s spine. He wanted more than anything to grab his gun, but it would raise too much suspicion. He tried to look simply interested, but backed away as he did so. Seungcheol was oblivious as always. Intrigued, he listened to Jun.

“So me and my little brother got moved at different times to keep us safe,” Junhui said, putting a glass down, “and they hired a smuggler for each of us. Jihoon was the one who was in charge of my little brother. He never came home.”

Junhui looked up then.

“His name was Xiyan.”

His biggest fear.

Images ran through Jihoon’s head. Once again, he was fourteen. Xiyan was about four, and Jihoon heard him even now. They were walking along. The infected were there. The little boy had never seen them before and he screamed. The runners woke up from their haunting slumber and ran in their direction. Xiyan was only little. He couldn’t run that far. Jihoon grabbed his hand and they tried to run but it was too late. They got him. His face as the infected clung to him, ripped his skin, dug their teeth into his flesh... He screamed for help and Jihoon ran. He begged for Jihoon to save him and Jihoon already knew it was no good, and he ran. He turned around just once to see a little boy covered in blood, his face ripped open. Dead. He was only four.

Jihoon was just a kid himself, but the guilt threw itself into his darkest nightmares.

Jihoon couldn’t breathe. He stumbled backwards as his lungs fought for oxygen and his head neared exploding.

Then just as Jihoon collapsed, Junhui raised his gun. He pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i need to explain this one?? i feel like this happened too quickly but i was Extremely stuck on this chapter so i had literally nothing to write except the big event id been planning since the start,, im so sorry if that shows but i tried my best i really did  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	33. xxxii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha jihoon go yeet

Seungcheol screamed as Jihoon fell to the floor, as did many other onlookers. Junhui didn’t care. He was shaking. He stared at Jihoon with a cold glare - the boy he had held so much anger for for so long. Years of frustration had boiled down to this.

Seungcheol pulled his jacket off and tied it tightly around the base of Jihoon’s chest, where blood was already pouring out. Then he scooped the unconscious boy into his arms and ran, unable to think of anything but fear for his lover. This couldn’t be it. He wouldn’t let it be the end.

He made it to the health centre in record time and kicked the door as hard as he could instead of knocking. He didn’t stop until it was opened. Wonwoo’s. He noticed the scarlet coating on both Jihoon and now Seungcheol with wide eyes, spluttering out an “oh my god”, then opened the door wide for Seungcheol to rush through. He lay Jihoon on the bed as quickly and gently as possible.

“Jun shot him,” he said, “revenge for a family affair or some fucking bullshit.”

Mingyu dropped what he was doing and hurried over, asking why it was alway those two being attacked. He untied the shirt as Wonwoo handed over a sterile cloth. Mingyu held it down on the wound, pretending he wasn’t panicking. He lost the last patient who had been shot, and that one hadn’t been immune to cordyceps.

“Was there any bleeding from anywhere else?” Mingyu asked.

“No.”

“So the bullet’s still inside,” determined the doctor, “we’ll worry about that when the bleeding’s stopped.”

Jihoon was pale and cold by the time the blood finally came to a halt. He looked scarily lifeless, but he still had a pulse and that was what mattered. Mingyu cleaned the wound and then looked at Wonwoo, who was already flicking through a book.

“The bullet might not need removal,” Mingyu said, “but we’ll only know for sure once we know exactly where it is.”

“How do you figure that out?” Seungcheol asked.

Mingyu was scanning the entry wound. His eyes flicked like he was doing some calculations.

“It’s probably lodged in his spine,” he said, “it would’ve gone through everything else.”

Wonwoo shook his head. “Mingyu, the blood loss, that’s far too risky-”

“If the bullet needs removal then it will be because it’ll give him lead poisoning and kill him that way. Anyway, if it’s in his spine… I can’t risk it getting in the way of his spinal cord. We have to operate.”

“Surely it’ll buy him more time to-”

“I can’t afford to lose him,” Mingyu snapped, “he’s immune to fucking cordyceps, Wonwoo. We need him.”

Wonwoo was stunned into silence as Mingyu began getting out equipment. Seungcheol was beginning to feel faint. They could lose him. They could lose Jihoon. And Seungcheol couldn’t do anything about it, even when Jihoon risked his life to save him just a few weeks prior. Nausea and dread worked together to put Seungcheol in agony.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked weakly.

“Yeah,” Mingyu said. He held out a sign. “Put this on the door outside and sit out there for a bit or something. You look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t have you hitting your head right now.”

Seungcheol did as he was told. The sign simply read “surgery in process, do not enter”. Then he sat down on the nearest bench and tried to breathe.

Jihoon could die. Before they had the chance to fully patch things up, before they could truly kiss, before he could show him what it was to love and before the boy could ever feel comfortable with happiness. After everything Jihoon had been through… would it really come down to this? To nothing?

And it was his fault.

Jihoon never revealed his surname to anyone, and Seungcheol had said it aloud in front of so many people. In front of Junhui. 

Seungcheol couldn’t sit around. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He found his way to Jeonghan’s door, knocked on the wood and then broke down in tears. It was the realisation that Jihoon really was scared for a reason. His fears weren’t as irrational as everyone thought. They were real. Random people hated his guts and there was no way of predicting who they may be. Jihoon was paying for the only way he knew to survive. It wasn’t fair. He had only been a kid.

Jeonghan was taken by surprise when he opened the door. He looked at Seungcheol with confusion, then concern, then with a slight hint of anger.

“Did Jihoon yell at you for something?” He asked.

“Oh, come off it, Han. Jihoon’s been shot. He’s in surgery.”

“Fuck. Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry. Come in, Cheol.”

Seungcheol entered and wiped his eyes, trying his hardest to calm down. How could he calm down when at any moment, he could lose Jihoon? 

“Was it trespassers?” Jeonghan asked, immediately beginning to make Seungcheol a drink with some bread and jam.

“It was Junhui,” explained Seungcheol, “apparently Jihoon was meant to smuggle his little brother or something and failed.”

“Xiyan,” Jeonghan said knowingly. Junhui had told him the tale before. “Jesus, that was years ago, wasn’t it?”

“Nearly ten, he said.”

“So Jihoon would’ve been… how old is Jihoon? Has he ever told anyone?”

Seungcheol nodded and sniffed. “He’s twenty three. He would’ve been thirteen? Fourteen? He, uh, he had a panic attack as soon as Jun said his name. Or a flashback? I don’t know what he goes through. Never asked. Anyway, Jun must’ve been right.”

Jeonghan handed Seungcheol his mug and plate, which the boy took gratefully. He sniffed again and wiped his eyes once more.

“Wonwoo reckons it’s PTSD,” he said, “not to gossip or anything.”

“You say, gossiping.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

They each took sips of their drinks. Seungcheol could only nibble at the bread, even with the luxury of strawberry jam. His stomach kept flipping over and over. It hadn’t sunk in for Jeonghan yet, most likely because he hadn’t seen him. He hadn’t seen the colour fade from Jihoon’s face. He hadn’t seen how much blood left Jihoon’s body. He hadn’t seen the horrifically uncertain look on Mingyu’s face as Seungcheol lay him down. He hadn’t seen what might as well have been Jihoon’s corpse. 

Seungcheol finally finished his drink and half a slice of bread and felt as though he would definitely throw up. He put his plate down and leaned back, his hands over his eyes as if the blank slate wouldn’t get covered with the image of Jihoon. He couldn’t breathe.

“Mingyu won’t let him go,” Jeonghan said softly, “not after he lost Joshua.” 

Seungcheol opened his eyes then. He and Jeonghan made eye contact, and Seungcheol suddenly realised what Jeonghan had felt. When that bullet took Joshua down, and Jeonghan carried him to safety whilst praying to a god he didn’t believe in. And just as suddenly, Seungcheol wished to the same god he also didn’t believe in that he had got more time with Jihoon. Joshua and Jeonghan had years. Seungcheol and Jihoon didn’t even get four months. 

“I’m going to throw up,” he mumbled. Jeonghan nodded as Seungcheol managed to stand, make his way to the bathroom, fall to the floor and vomit. Jeonghan came in shortly after and rubbed his back. 

“If it’s any comfort… Mingyu’s a really good doctor,” Jeonghan mumbled, “even if he is young. He only lost Joshua because he had no chance anyway.”

“It took so long to stop the bleeding,” Seungcheol replied, hardly audible.

“It’s okay. That bitch is immune to fucking cordyceps, he can handle a bullet.”

Seungcheol managed a weak smile.

“Do you think he really is immune?” Seungcheol asked, trying to distract himself with something bigger, “or do you think it’s just… a different strain and he’s asymptomatic?”

“You’d want the latter, wouldn’t you?” Jeonghan asked with a laugh, “it’s spread through saliva. He’s kissed you. You’ve not turned. He could kiss everyone like he’s a vaccine.”

Seungcheol put his head in his hands. Normally it would’ve made him laugh, but that didn’t feel quite right at the moment so hiding his face felt appropriate instead. Jeonghan was smiling though.

“Mingyu doesn’t have a clue what it is,” said Jeonghan, “but Jihoon’s not the only one.”

Jeonghan helped Seungcheol to stand. The boy still felt ill, but he was guided outside by his friend for some fresh air. Seungcheol sat down in the small patch of grass and leaned his head against the wall. 

Seungcheol got going once the sun began to set. The waiting was unbearable. He had no idea how long the procedure would even last, but he needed to get back.

Seungcheol entered without knocking. To his relief, the surgery was done anyway. Jihoon lay pale on the bed, his bare chest rising ever so slowly, a fresh line of stitches at the bottom of it, and still surrounded by his own blood. A scarlet stained bullet sat on a medical tray beside him. It was clear that they had only just finished.

“Is he okay?” Seungcheol asked.

Mingyu sighed. “For now.”

The doctor washed his bloody hands, Wonwoo started clearing up equipment, and Seungcheol sat next to his lover and pushed his hair back as if it would comfort him. Mingyu grabbed his radio and asked for Kwon Soonyoung. The man arrived shortly after. He looked at the scene with wide eyes.

“We need to go on a trip,” Mingyu said, “urgently. Jihoon’s lost a lot of blood and honestly, he might not make it.”

“Okay. What am I looking for?”

“We,” Mingyu corrected him as he grabbed a jacket, “and we’re leaving now.” 

Mingyu turned to Wonwoo, who pulled him in for a hug.

“Stay safe.”

“Of course. Don’t blame yourself if something happens. I love you.”

“I love you too. Please don’t be stupid. Come home.”

Seungcheol clung to Jihoon’s hand, his fear only increasing. His thumb pressed down so hard on Jihoon’s wrist that he could feel his pulse, and that was the best comfort he had.

Mingyu left with Soonyoung and the petrified Seungcheol was left with a petrified Wonwoo. Wonwoo had only ever been left with minor cases. Now he was responsible for his friend’s life.

Wonwoo sat on the other side of Jihoon. He didn’t know what to do other than stroke his hand, so that he did. He didn’t realise how fond he was of him until he had seen him so weak. Even though he had never met anyone so grumpy, he kept him entertained and he was an interesting person to know. Now it was strange to see Jihoon look peaceful. Who knew you could long so much for someone to scowl?

One torturous long hour later, the door opened and Jeonghan slipped through. He found his place next to Seungcheol. No one said anything. There was nothing to say. Instead, they listened out for Jihoon’s breaths and prayed for a miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lovely  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	34. xxxiii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 33 may be my least favourite number in roman numerals. why is it like that

Wonwoo woke up with a startled gasp. His eyes shot to the boy before him. Was he paler or was it the lighting? Wonwoo felt for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. He relaxed. Just a little bit.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan were fast asleep. Jeonghan was slouched into his chair in a way that would probably be aiming to break his back if not his neck. Seungcheol meanwhile had pushed his chair right back so that he could fold over and rest his head on the edge of the bed, Jihoon’s hand still clasped tightly in his as if Jihoon would fade away should he ever let go.

It was only half seven, but Jihoon was still shirtless with only yesterday's jeans on and a blanket thrown over him, so Wonwoo nudged Jeonghan awake. He was confused at first, then looked around and remembered yesterday. He stared dazed at Wonwoo.

“Sorry,” the doctor apologised, “but can you pop to Jihoon’s house and get him some comfy clothes? I can’t leave him.”

Jeonghan rubbed his eyes and nodded. He stretched and yawned before getting up to begin the little quest. Meanwhile, Wonwoo checked the wound and Jihoon’s temperature. Both were okay. He hoped Jihoon would wake up soon. He needed nutrients and they didn’t have the equipment to give them to him without him actually eating and drinking. That was what Mingyu and Soonyoung set out for, but they didn’t have a chance in hell. Wonwoo was already trying to accept Jihoon’s death. How did Mingyu do this?

Wonwoo curled up in his precious window seat, cuddling a pillow to his chest. He leaned his head against the cold glass as tears began to run down his cheeks. The pressure was already too much. It would’ve been hard enough with a stranger.

Jeonghan returned shortly. Wonwoo wiped his eyes and jumped up with just a small thank you as Jeonghan handed the bag over. He’d brought back a few pairs of sweatpants, shirts, and a few sweaters. Jihoon had apparently recently been making pyjamas too, so Jeonghan grabbed a pair after comparing them to Jihoon’s other things to ensure they fit. Most of the other clothes had been Joshua’s, of course. The parallel of the two made him feel sick. At least Jihoon had actually survived the night. That was a start.

Wonwoo got Jihoon changed and folded his jeans up beneath the bed. He had to try and unlock Jihoon’s hand from Seungcheol's to get the boy’s shirt on, but he ended up waking the guy up and he tightened his grip.

“I’m not letting go,” Seungcheol mumbled, his eyes half open.

“That’s great, Cheol. I need to put a shirt on him.”

Seungcheol blinked a few times and let go. He sat up and stretched whilst Wonwoo slipped on the cotton pyjama top. Seungcheol buttoned it up. 

“Was it worth taking out the bullet?” He asked quietly, recalling yesterday’s small argument of its necessity.

Wonwoo nodded. “Yeah. Gyu was right. It was lodged in his spine.”

“Shit,” Seungcheol looked up with wide, concerned eyes. “That’s serious, right?”

“It is if it’s damaged his spinal cord,” Wonwoo said, “but we need to wait for him to wake up to see how much damage has been done. We can’t do an MRI or anything so…”

Seungcheol buried his face into the mattress with dread. Wonwoo threw himself back onto the window seat and Jeonghan had no idea what to do with himself. He loudly swore and punched the wall, surprising even himself.

“Jeonghan,” Wonwoo sighed, “I really don’t need you injuring yourself right now.”

Jeonghan mumbled something inaudible and sat down, glaring at the spot he’d just punched.

“What’d they do with Jun?” He asked a few minutes later.

Wonwoo shrugged. “That’s something you’d know.”

Jeonghan shook his head with a sigh. “I’m still not fully back at work.”

Seungcheol hadn’t even thought about Jun, apart from obviously being livid. He had just taken Jihoon and ran.

“What do they normally do with bartenders who shoot customers when they’re on shift?” He asked.

“Exile, I’d imagine,” was Jeonghan's answer, “but it’s probably not immediate. They’ll trial it. Town vote.”

“They’ll wait to see how Jihoon turns out,” Wonwoo spoke up, “for his defense and input. If he… p-passes away, it’ll most likely be up to you to talk for him, Cheol.”

Seungcheol ran nervous circles into Jihoon’s hand. If they tried it, with a town vote, they’d need to know the circumstances. Jihoon would never want that many people knowing he’s an ex smuggler, let alone one who failed to deliver a child. But the other option was to let Junhui walk free, and Jihoon would never feel safe in Taesu again. Jihoon would never feel safe again either way. Seungcheol didn’t realise he could hate anyone or anything as much as he hated Junhui.

Waiting for Mingyu to return felt like hell. Three pairs of anxious eyes couldn't stray away from Jihoon for longer than a minute. Seungcheol continuously felt for a pulse and Wonwoo kept checking it too. Jeonghan went for a walk after a while, only to return, huff, and flop right back next to his friend. He asked if there was any change, only to be answered with a glum “no” and a sigh.

A mother dropped by with her screaming child, which was fun for Wonwoo as he got something to pass the time. He stitched up the kid’s chin with fake smiles and plenty of comments on his bravery whilst the little girl asked about the man sleeping behind him and Wonwoo wished children would be more careful. He sent her on her way and the smile dropped.

“What’s the worst case you’ve ever had?” Seungcheol asked, not even trying to sound even a little less agitated.

“Mine would be Joshua,” Wonwoo answered, “and then this.”

“Great.”

The three went back to silence and paranoid pulse/temperature checks. Wonwoo needed to check the line of stitches they had been forced to create along his spine to remove the bullet, but somehow turning him over for it felt like disturbing him and so he put it off. Finally he did check that it was fine, and it was fine, so Wonwoo truly had nothing else to do but play the painful waiting game.

The door opened without a prior knock and Mingyu pushed through, a large box in his hands. Soonyoung followed behind him. The boys quickly sat up with all eyes on the doctor.

“How is he?” Mingyu asked. 

“Still breathing,” Wonwoo replied, noticing a nasty gash on his lover’s arm. It was loosely wrapped by a blood stained bandage, but it seemed to be dry so he left the lecture for later.

“We made a deal,” Mingyu explained, put of breath, “with a hospital down in Busan. There’s more stuff but I’ll get that later. Can you start boiling some water please?”

“Yeah, ‘course. What kind of deal?”

“I’ll talk about it later. Jihoon looks like he’s going to die any second.”

Mingyu hurriedly opened the boxes, glancing at Jihoon every other second. Once the pot of water Wonwoo placed on the stove was bubbling, Mingyu used it to clean some equipment that Seungcheol had never seen before, and frankly was quite afraid of. Wonwoo unpacked a few bags of clear liquid from a box with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“What’s that?” Seungcheol asked.

“Nutrients,” Wonwoo said with wide eyes, “what kind of fucking deal… Jesus, Mingyu, what are we paying for this?”

Mingyu shook his head and inserted a tube into Jihoon’s hand. Seungcheol winced as if he felt it. The other end of it trailed up a thin pole where one of the weird bags were hung on a hook at the top, feeding the nutrients into the boy. Next, a tube was laced around Jihoon’s ears and little nubbins placed into his nostrils, Mingyu fiddled with a tank beside the patient, oxygen flowed through, and then the doctor breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s all we can do for him,” he said.

Soonyoung and Jeonghan took it upon themselves to grab and unpack the remaining boxes of similar equipment and supplies. Mingyu meanwhile hopped into the shower to rid himself of all the blood and dirt across his body (he had obviously washed his hands before treating Jihoon). The second he emerged Wonwoo sat him down and stitched up his arm, gently wrapping it with fresh bandages. He then leaned his forehead against his before softly kissing him. Seungcheol hoped he would be able to do the same with Jihoon soon.

For now, he kept his gaze on the boy’s pale face and waited to see what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been proofed a few times but i skimread it again to post it and forgot what happened like immediately so u know  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	35. xxxiv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'd think i'd be sure of 4 in roman numerals by now

Over the years, Jihoon had grown quite cocky with his health. He came across so many life or death situations, all of which ended in his survival, and it began to feel as though he was invincible. Near strangulation? Survived. Molotov cocktails? Missed him entirely. Arrow to the shoulder? Piece of cake. Hell, he even got bitten by a runner and survived. 

But now in Taesu, it always came down to the medical centre. 

Jihoon opened his eyes to it now, although he barely recognised it as anything at all. He stared at the arched roof and the planks that lined it, as well as reaching out across each side of the room, as if he had never seen it before. It was fascinating in his foggy state. It was as though he was mesmerised by it for a moment. He couldn't figure out what it actually was or where he was.

He found Seungcheol’s eyes next. They were pretty, although Jihoon was staring just as blankly as he had at the ceiling. The pretty boy blinked his pretty eyes. He said something too, but Jihoon didn’t hear. He was busy wondering how someone’s lips could be so naturally red.

It was a few minutes until Jihoon became more alert of reality. What brought him there was a splitting ache on either side of his body, although it was worse on the front. He let out a small whimper with a soft scowl. Seungcheol started pushing his hair back as comfort.

“You’re alright,” he whispered, “it’s okay.”

Jihoon heard him that time and relaxed ever so slightly. Mingyu gave him a few more minutes before bothering him with the boring stuff.

“Do you remember what happened?” He asked gently, standing next to Seungcheol with his notepad.

Jihoon thought hard. Then finally, he said no. His mind had never felt so blank.

“You were shot,” Mingyu explained and held his hand over his own abdomen, just below the middle of his chest, “right here. You lost a lot of blood but you’re okay. You’ll need to take it easy for a while, I’m afraid.”

They needed to run some tests for his nerves, since without scans they had no way of knowing how much spinal cord damage he may have suffered from the position of the bullet, but Mingyu and Wonwoo agreed to let him wake up properly before scaring him. They also didn’t want to panic over Jihoon being unable to move his legs when the only issue was that he was barely conscious. 

“How are you feeling?” Seungcheol asked. A few seconds passed before Jihoon managed to process the question enough to answer.

“Hurts.”

Seungcheol smiled. “You’ve got pain meds going through, don’t worry. Look at your hand.”

Jihoon did so, and saw a tube entering his right hand, covered in tape. He looked away quite quickly. He was a little afraid of it.

“My nose tickles,” Jihoon mumbled. He twitched his nose like a rabbit and Seungcheol smiled at him.

“That’s the oxygen,” Wonwoo told him, “you’ve got a breathing tube in.”

“Why?”

Wonwoo blinked. “...to support your lungs.”

Jeonghan stifled a laugh. Jihoon only just realised he was there. Why were there so many people? Jeonghan waved enthusiastically then chuckled when Jihoon only looked dazed.

Once Jihoon could go thirty seconds without blinking repeatedly and his signature scowl was coming through, Mingyu deemed him ready enough to be assessed.

“The bullet was in your spine,” he told him, “which is why your back will be sore too: we operated to get it out. I just need to check any damage to the spinal cord, okay?”

“Okay,” Jihoon said, too tired to take in what any of that meant for him.

“Alright. Can you feel that?” Mingyu had folded back the bottom of the blanket to expose Jihoon’s feet, and was now tracing the back of his pen along the bottom of it. It tickled.

“Yeah.”

“And the same with this one?” Mingyu repeated with the other foot.

“Yeah.”

Mingyu breathed a sigh of relief.

“And can you move your toes?”

Jihoon had to think about it. It was like he forgot where they were. Mingyu tapped the top of them with a nervous smile like he had read his mind and wanted to remind him. Eventually, Jihoon just about managed it. Mingyu mumbled “good” with uncertainty.

Next Mingyu asked Jihoon to draw his legs up so that his knees were bent and his feet were flat on the bed. This also took him a moment, and Mingyu quickly stopped to check his arms. They were weak but fine, so they continued. Eventually, Jihoon managed to pull his legs up. 

“This one’s easier,” he said as he lowered the left one again. Mingyu frowned as he scribbled something in his notebook.

“Is this bad?” Seungcheol asked.

Mingyu sighed. “It could be much worse. It might be that the bullet did damage the spinal cord, but it’s very minor. Your right leg being weaker would be from the angle the bullet hit. But with injuries this minor, full recovery may be possible with time, patience, and physio.” 

It felt weird talking professionally to friends.

Jihoon was still too tired to take much in, so he wasn’t yet too fussed about his legs being too weak for Mingyu’s liking. Seungcheol and Jeonghan however exchanged worried glances.

“He’ll walk, won’t he?” Jeonghan checked.

“Oh, yeah. I think so. The worst case scenario might be his legs are just weaker than they once were, but nothing massively life changing. Maybe just an inconvenience. It’ll probably mean he can’t patrol though, so that’ll be fun for him to take in.”

Jihoon had entirely zoned out by this point. He was distracted by the light shining through the window and into the floorboards. Specks of dust were dancing a pretty little dance and Jihoon was mesmerised. Then Mingyu had a hold of his leg, bringing the boy back to reality.

“Push as hard as you can.”

“This is boring,” Jihoon mumbled, but tried his best anyway. He just about managed to push both legs.

“You’ll build your strength back up again in time,” Mingyu promised. Jihoon turned back to the light. The dust was still dancing.

They tried to give Jihoon a late breakfast, but the pain of sitting up ensured that he had no appetite and he just fiddled with the spoon instead. The IV tube on his hand also bothered him. It made him feel a little funny, so he held his spoon with his left hand for a while before admitting defeat and placing the bowl of porridge on the table. Lunch went similarly, but Mingyu wasn’t too bothered. He still had the nutrients pumping through, afterall.

Jihoon fell asleep again by early afternoon. The painkillers were making him drowsy. Chan dropped by with a get well soon card - nobody really knew why, not even Chan, since the two weren’t exactly friends - but it was sweet anyway. Soonyoung came by too just because he was a nosy little shit and wanted to see the guy whose life was so important that Mingyu took a trip across the country. 

Jihoon woke up in time for dinner, after all but one of his visitors had left. Seungcheol, of course, was the one who remained. 

A bowl was quickly placed in the patient’s lap. It was just soup. Jihoon swirled it around with his left hand for a bit, almost spilling it.

“I never noticed you were left handed,” Wonwoo commented.

“I’m not,” Jihoon said.

Mingyu frowned then. “Is something wrong with the right one?”

“Yeah, there’s a tube in it.”

The doctor laughed. “You can still use it.”

Jihoon glanced at his hand with a soft version of his scowl. “I don’t like it.”

Seungcheol took the bowl from him and started feeding him. If Jihoon had more energy, he would’ve raised his eyebrows at him. He had a few mouthfuls and then refused any more.

Mingyu came over and wrapped Jihoon’s hand with a bandage in the hopes that it would make Jihoon feel less uneasy. Ideally, he wouldn’t have put it in his dominant hand, but he didn’t really want to stab a needle through a cordyceps bite scar. He didn’t know enough about what was going on with that hand to put a tube in it. 

“How long was I out for?” Jihoon asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Uh… a day and a half?” Wonwoo said uncertainly, “you were shot on Tuesday and out all day yesterday. It’s Thursday now.”

Jihoon hummed. He tried to remember who shot him and why, but it felt like he had a cloud instead of a brain. Instead he lay down, winced, and tried his very best to fall asleep again. 

Seungcheol watched the boy in his dazed state. He was fascinated by the roof again. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile and stroke his cheek with his finger. 

“He’ll be okay now, won’t he?” He asked Mingyu.

“Yeah. Yeah, he should be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so bad at ending chapters have u noticed  
> usually i just get stuck and im like eh word counts good ill leave it  
> anyway thanks for reading n all ur lovely comments   
> love u bye


	36. xxxv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapters been proofed many times n idk if its good enough to post yet but here it is

It was another two days until Jihoon actually felt awake. He was currently lying flat on his back, pushing as hard as he could with his leg against Mingyu. It was boring. Seungcheol watched as he slurped noisily on a juice carton.

“Your left leg’s definitely stronger,” Mingyu noted, “are you left or right footed?”

Jihoon had to think about it. “Right.”

Nobody quite liked the expression Mingyu wore. Jihoon began to feel a little nervous.

“Is that okay?”

Mingyu lowered Jihoon’s good leg and sighed.

“The bullet was lodged in your spine,” he said, which was somehow news to Jihoon, “minor spinal cord injuries can cause weakness in your legs. With the angle the bullet hit, that would mean it’s interrupted the signals to your right leg.”

“What does that mean?” Jihoon found himself holding onto Seungcheol. Of course, Jihoon had been told most of this before, but he was pretty dazed and didn’t understand anything.

“We’ll have to see how it progresses,” Mingyu said, “full recoveries are possible. But there’s a chance you won’t be able to walk as well as you once did. It’s too early to tell what the extent is…”

Jihoon closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Seungcheol kept hold of his hand, even kissing it in a small attempt of comfort.

“You can try to walk now,” Mingyu suggested, “and see how you do?”

Jihoon shook his head. Suddenly he was scared. What if his leg couldn’t even hold his weight? What if he collapsed? What if it was so bad that he could never even go on a gentle patrol again? Jihoon didn’t want to face any of the possibilities that popped into his head.

Seungcheol went out to buy Jihoon some lunch but the boy wouldn't touch it. He tried to feed him instead but Jihoon just pushed himself onto his other side (noticeably tougher with the limited use of his leg) and buried his head into his pillow. 

That was how Jihoon spent the rest of his day: hiding his face to avoid the world. Mingyu pulled him into position for some physiotherapy, during which Jihoon kept his eyes closed. His scowl had made quite the comeback. Mingyu tried to reassure him, but Wonwoo shut him up.

“Let him grieve,” he said. Mingyu sighed and said nothing else.

The next day, Jihoon was still miserable but wasn’t trying to hide, which was seen as an improvement. He even had a few mouthfuls of his porridge once Wonwoo had sprinkled some blueberries in it. 

Seungcheol and Jeonghan were back at work. Mingyu was out too - he was doing the rounds of outpatients who needed minor care and checkups. Jihoon was left in Wonwoo’s peaceful company.

Until Junhui turned up.

The second Jihoon saw him, the memories came rushing back. He suddenly remembered who shot him. More importantly, Jihoon remembered why. He grabbed his gun and held it poised.

Junhui put his hands up.

"Wonwoo literally just patted me down," he said, "there's no weapons on me."

Jihoon, of course, didn't falter. Junhui sighed. He remained standing near the door. Wonwoo was closeby, ready to grab him if he tried anything.

“I, uh, heard I’ve fucked your legs up,” Junhui said, “which is unfortunate considering I was trying to kill you. Life for a life and all that.”

“Bullet for a bullet,” Jihoon responded cooly, “ability to walk for the ability to walk.”

Junhui sighed again and looked around. “I lost my brother because of you.”

“I was fourteen years old,” Jihoon said, shaking now. “Do you think I killed him myself? Do you think I hurt him for a laugh?”

Jihoon tried his best to block out Xiyan’s screams, but they were haunting. He took deep breaths.

“I relive his death almost every night,” he managed to say, “and everyday I wish I could have saved him.”

It was at that moment when Jihoon realised there was nothing he could've done. The moment the first hand reached that little boy, he was gone. Jihoon could’ve tried, sure, but it would’ve cost his life too. It wouldn't have prevented Xiyan’s death. He tried his best.

Jihoon said all of this aloud as he realised it, and when he looked up again Junhui was staring at the floor. His expression was unreadable. Finally, he looked up too.

“Could you bury him?”

Jihoon sniffed. “I buried his toy car. We passed through a toy shop once and I let him take this blue car. He loved it. So I buried that by a river. He really loved the rivers we walked past.”

“Yeah,” Junhui said softly, “he always did.”

He didn’t say another word. Instead, he left. Jihoon finally lowered the gun.

“You okay?” Wonwoo asked gently, kind of wondering what just happened. Jihoon wiped his eyes and nodded. “Is that what your nightmares were? His little brother?”

“Some of them.”

Wonwoo just nodded. He hoped that somehow talking to Junhui offered some closure. He guessed, rather accurately, that Jihoon didn’t receive much comfort about Xiyan’s death at the time.

The doctor grabbed a book from the shelf and started reading to Jihoon like the last time the boy was there. Jihoon listened intently, cuddling Seungcheol’s sweater that he had left behind. It was soft and it smelt like him. All thoughts of Xiyan were slowly washed away. Jihoon closed his eyes.

He must’ve fallen asleep (not a surprise to anyone) because when he next opened his eyes, Seungcheol was there. He must have just returned from patrol because his hair was all over the place and there was a smidge of dirt across his cheek. It almost mirrored his scar. Seungcheol grinned sweetly and Jihoon couldn’t help but smile back. His presence felt like home.

“Mingyu wants us to go on a walk in a bit,” Seungcheol said, “and you don’t have a choice, apparently.”

Jihoon slowly sat up. “I don’t really want to walk yet…”

“I told him you’d say that, and he said you’re to borrow a wheelchair, so that’s that, I guess.”

Seungcheol smiled as he spoke, clearly excited to go somewhere or other with Jihoon. Jihoon would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to get out. He did feel in need of some fresh air, just as long as it was somewhere quiet. He was too tired to deal with people.

So once Mingyu and Wonwoo had returned from lunch, Jihoon was helped into a wheelchair and his IV was taken out. Jihoon looked away whilst that was done. He had been off the oxygen since yesterday, so that wasn’t a problem. The slight difficulty he had maneuvering his bad foot into his boot meanwhile made him feel sick to the stomach. He tried not to think about it and to convince himself that all was fine. Seungcheol took charge of the wheelchair and they got going.

“It’s warm today,” Seungcheol chit chatted. Jihoon agreed as he rolled his sleeves up. He already regretted wearing a hoodie. 

“Is it April or March?” He asked.

“First day of April.”

Jihoon nodded. April fools day. He hated April fools day. He hadn’t really been involved in it since he was twelve, but as a kid he despised even the little innocent tricks thrown at him. They annoyed the shit out of him.

Jihoon leaned over the side of his chair and brushed his fingers against the flowers they passed. They brought him peace and he felt happier in the sunlight. He even pulled up a few of the large, tall daisies and gathered them into a miniature bunch. A ribbon with a lovely bow would’ve finished them off, but he doubted he would ever find one for them. They were pretty anyway.

“Where are we going?” Jihoon asked.

“No idea,” was Seungcheol’s cheerful reply, “I’d love to take you to a lake but that doesn’t look likely today. When I was walking a while ago I found these gorgeous lakes, and I wanted to take you there, then you got shot. So get better soon so I can take you to a lake, okay?”

“I’ll try my best.”

Jihoon leaned back to look up at Seungcheol. Seungcheol looked down and laughed.

“Beautiful angle, Hoon.”

“I could say the same to you.”

Jihoon bent back to a comfortable position and fiddled with the flowers in his hand. 

“You know,” he said, “a few weeks ago I wanted to shoot you. Now I’d shoot someone else to go to the lakes with you.”

Seungcheol smiled. He stopped walking to kiss Jihoon’s head. “I’ll carry you if I have to.”

Jihoon had no idea where he stood with Seungcheol anymore, except that he was the only person he couldn’t get sick of. He was scared, but he wanted to hold onto the romantic feeling. Nearly losing Seungcheol and then nearly losing himself made Jihoon feel like the universe was trying to shake him to his senses. 

Seungcheol took Jihoon just outside the town. They followed the dirt path as much as they could until it became too unstable to get any further, and Seungcheol picked Jihoon up. He sat him down in the grass and perched next to him. Jihoon stared up at the blossoming trees, admiring the light that shone through them. Seungcheol stared at Jihoon and admired the way the sun danced across his skin. The boy’s dark eyes shone. Seungcheol moved a flick of hair from the boy’s face to see him better.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told him. Jihoon looked over. A shy smile was painted on his face.

“Kiss me,” he said softly. His lover smiled.

Seungcheol cupped Jihoon’s cheek and did so. It was sweet. Butterflies filled Jihoon’s stomach and for once, it didn’t feel awful. He didn’t want to run away. He wanted to stay there forever. Finally they pulled away and both boys were beaming.

The couple stayed for just ten minutes longer, enjoying each other’s company and the songs of the birds. Then, when they were ready to go, Seungcheol picked Jihoon up again and put him down in his chair. Once the boy was comfortable, they set off back to the medical centre. 

Jihoon kept glancing into the distance, suddenly longing to sit by the lake with his lover. Maybe with a picnic. He didn't know why it mattered so much, but it did.

Seungcheol helped Jihoon into bed. Mingyu was pleased to see some colour in the boy’s face.

“We’ll try walking later, Hoon,” he said. Jihoon shook his head but the doctor wasn’t having it.

Mingyu let the boy rest for a little while before the walking affair. He came over and Jihoon looked at Seungcheol as if he would do anything to stop it.

“You want to get to the lakes, don’t you?” He asked.

Jihoon sighed.

The first step was to sit on the edge of the bed, which he managed. Wonwoo held him by the armpits as extra support as Jihoon tried to stand. He leaned on his good leg and pushed himself up with his hands, then immediately almost fell over. Wonwoo caught him and steadied him. Mingyu reassured him that it was okay, and that of course his first time standing was going to be difficult, but Jihoon was already stressed out. Then he realised Wonwoo had let go. He was standing on his own. He looked at Seungcheol and almost smiled.

“You’re doing great,” Seungcheol said.

Jihoon kept looking at Seungcheol as he tried to take a step forward. He tried the bad one first to keep the weight on the stronger leg. So far so good. He lifted the other leg, and then he was on the floor. Wonwoo leapt forward to help him up but Jihoon looked like he was going to cry.

“I’ll keep hold of you this time,” Wonwoo promised, “you won’t fall.”

Jihoon thought about the lakes, and let Wonwoo pull him up. Back to square one. Bad leg forward. Follow with the good.

He stumbled, but he did it. His foot had dragged along the floor a little bit, but he did it. Wonwoo let go again so that Jihoon could have another try on his own. And this time, he did it. Intense relief washed over him. Yes, he was struggling with the bad leg, but he was still walking. 

Jihoon made it a few more steps to Seungcheol before falling into his arms. Seungcheol held him tight and kissed his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeehaw and all that  
> idk what im gonna do w myself once ive posted all of this fic tbh  
> thank u for reading love u bye


	37. xxxvi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive added little bits to this and not proofed it isnt that nice

Jihoon managed to walk further the next day, getting across the entire room and back. His bad leg dragged along a little and he had a limp, but he convinced himself that it would get better within time. Meanwhile, Mingyu let him keep a cane for assistance and as much as Jihoon hated to admit it, it helped. 

On Wednesday Jihoon had his stitches removed and then Seungcheol took him out for lunch. It reminded him of when they had first arrived here. Once again, Jihoon was injured and they were venturing around town without any certainty that Jihoon could even walk that far.

“Jun doesn’t work at the pub anymore, if you want to go there,” Seungcheol said. Jihoon nodded. He wasn’t too sure how he would mentally react to being back there, but he hadn’t had any nightmares so Jihoon assumed that he would be okay. 

Jun wasn’t on shift of course, but Minghao was. Jihoon sat down as quickly as he could whilst Seungcheol ordered. When Seungcheol sat down though, Minghao followed. He turned to Jihoon. Jihoon clicked the safety off of his gun.

“Look, Jihoon,” Minghao began nervously, “uh… I want to explain myself. I know I’ve been a dick to you. I’m always wary of new people. It’s just how my dad taught me to be. But I was absolutely harder on you and it was because of Junhui. He constantly said he had a bad feeling about you, and I loved him so I blindly took his side. He told me what he did and I’m, uh, really sorry about what happened to you. Both with Jun and with his brother. Jun’s moved out of town. I don’t know where to. He didn’t feel welcome here anymore. I guess I just wanted you to know all that. I’m sorry.”

Jihoon didn’t really know what to say. Mostly he was just stunned. He blinked, taking it all in.

“It’s okay,” he said finally, “honestly.”

Minghao nodded. He seemed nervous and maybe even a little scared, and then he scuttled back behind the bar. Jihoon turned back to Seungcheol.

“He wouldn't let me pay for our food,” Seungcheol said, “he insisted it was on the house. So that’s all nice.”

“Yeah,” replied Jihoon, “yeah, it is.”

Seungcheol placed his head in his hands. He had felt guilty for a while. He blamed himself for Jihoon’s injury - he had said his surname in front of people. He knew Jihoon’s fear of being caught for his smuggling all too well, and he had fucked up without a thought.

“I’m so sorry I said your name,” Seungcheol said quietly. He feared Jihoon’s reply. He couldn’t bear it when he was angry or upset with him. To his surprise, Jihoon took his hand.

“It was just bad luck,” he told him, “it’s okay.”

“But you’re always so careful-”

“I know, but I lived, didn’t I?”

“With a fucked up spine.”

“Seungcheol,” Jihoon said, still holding his hand, “I blame Jun. Not you. It’s all on Jun, it’s okay. Please don’t blame yourself forever. I promise you I’ve fucked up worse. For example, Jun’s brother. Plus I still have shit to smuggle. My trip wasn’t done when you found me, so there’s that. I-if you want to get high…actually I don’t know if drugs have an expiration date.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened and then he laughed. Jihoon smiled too. 

Their food arrived, and Jihoon was back to barely eating half of it. So Seungcheol had a meal and a bit, then tried to encourage Jihoon to get through the rest. Jihoon shook his head with a soft smile, then sat his head in his hands and stared.

“I’m really glad we met,” he said. Jihoon could have said so much more, but he left it there out of both fear and embarrassment. But what he did say meant the world to Seungcheol.

“And I’m grateful to the dick who stabbed you,” he answered with a laugh. Jihoon grinned. 

They stacked their plates neatly for whoever it was who collected them and got going. Jihoon hadn’t actually been discharged yet, so they headed back to the medical centre. They stopped for breaks along the way. Jihoon was yet to adjust to his weak leg and found it tiring to get about. Mingyu insisted he would get used to it before long. Jihoon insisted it would heal before long.

Only Mingyu was in the centre when the two returned. Seungcheol stuck around for a bit, but then he had patrol at three so he got going. Then it was just Jihoon and the doctor. Mingyu was sat cross legged on the floor, unravelling and reravelling the same roll of bandages over and over. He stared into thin air. Jihoon was about to ask if he was okay when Mingyu spoke first.

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

Jihoon blinked. “Alright.”

Mingyu put the bandages down and sighed. He found it easiest to get straight to the point. Almost. “The equipment we used to save your life… it wasn’t free. Nobody would give out stuff like that just because someone needed it. We made a deal. Monthly supplies if we paid them enough for it. And they asked who was so important to need saving, so I told them to try someone immune to cordyceps. They’re a major hospital, Hoon, down in Busan. They want scans from you and they want to study the infection in you, your antibodies, all of that jazz. To see what we can do with your immunity.”

“Okay,” Jihoon said, as if it was nothing.

“You want to?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I do. When do we leave?”

Mingyu ran his fingers through his hair. “Uh… somewhere in the next few days would be best. Saturday? I can discharge you today and then you’ve got a few days to rest at home and whatever. Then we can head off to Busan.”

Sounded good. Jihoon agreed to the plan. He was nervous about it being Busan, but he was more eager for his life to mean something. He had always felt insignificant. Before, Jihoon felt like his reason to live was the business. He was needed and valued as a smuggler. Now, he felt like nothing. His reason to live was Seungcheol, but that he couldn’t wrap his head around. Love? Was that it? And now he had something invaluable that could help humanity.

Jeonghan picked Jihoon up, which surprised him because he thought Seungcheol was on patrol with him. Turns out he was with Seokmin. Anyway, Jihoon limped along beside Jeonghan to his home. His hip was getting sore from dragging his leg now. He was also scuffing the tip of his boot. It was all beginning to anger him now more than anything.

“You okay?” Jeonghan asked, noticing his struggle, “is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just leave it, Han,” Jihoon snapped. Jeonghan raised his eyebrows.

“Hey,” he said, holding up his three fingered hand for Jihoon to see, “I get it, okay? Losing the use of your limb can be difficult, I get it. You can talk to me.”

Jihoon scowled, eyeing his wretched cane as it helped him along the path.

“It feels like shit,” he mumbled.

Jeonghan knew the feeling, albeit in a different form. He had only recently been able to look at his hand without feeling sick with grief. Adjustment had been difficult. He had avoided meals that needed both a knife and fork for at least two months. It had required a few lessons with Seungkwan to use his gun again on patrols. It was a constant reminder of who he lost. In Jihoon’s words, it felt like shit.

“I usually encourage optimism,” Jeonghan said quietly, “but try to accept the possibility that your leg won’t heal. Spinal cords don’t heal themselves, Hoon. The sooner you accept that, the better. And if it does get better, then it’ll be a pleasant surprise. Either way you’re at peace.”

Jihoon knew he was right. He didn’t want him to be, but he was. He didn’t say anything else until they were home.

“I’ve always been so quick paced,” he said, sitting down and leaning his cane against the sofa, “I don’t want to be slowed down. I love patrols and hiking in the forest with Seungcheol.”

“You’ll learn to live with it,” Jeonghan promised, “you’ll find your ways around. I’ll try to convince Mingyu to let you on gentle patrols, hm? I’m guessing you can’t run, but I’m sure you’ll be fine with the distanced clearout patrols. Or maybe even on horseback.”

Jeonghan cooked pasta for their dinner. Neither boys ate much, so he split one meal into two and it suited them just fine. Jihoon liked that about Jeonghan. He understood where Jihoon’s mind was without pestering him about getting better or eating more or sleeping more. He left him to his own devices and in return, Jihoon did the same thing. They came to each other to avoid the smothering care from others.

“I’m going to Busan on Saturday,” Jihoon said casually, stabbing his pasta with a fork. “That’s where I used to live. I think my folk have assumed me to be dead, so it’d be funny if they saw me.”

“Return of the Jihoon. He can’t walk now but he’s immune to cordyceps,” Jeonghan said lightly. Jihoon smiled.

“Where were you based?” He asked, “as a Firefly, I mean.”

“Daegu. It was nice there. When we weren’t bombing the military, anyway.”

“That’s where Seungcheol’s from,” Jihoon said fondly, “must be a nice place.”

“Has a heart of gold, that guy.”

“It’ll kill him one day.”

“Nah,” Jeonghan shook his head, “not if he has you.”

Jihoon hid his smile and flushed cheeks.

They found a film to watch, although Jihoon was more focused on his sewing than the screen. It was some cheesy musical set in Greece where a bride-to-be wanted her father at the wedding but she had three potential fathers or something - Jihoon didn’t really care. Jeonghan enjoyed it though. He seemed to know the words to all the songs. Saturday was the only thing on Jihoon’s mind. 

Jihoon didn’t sleep well that night. He was so desperate for his immunity to mean something. He lay awake, tossing and turning.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if his life could mean something? If he could help people? If his immunity meant that people would no longer suffer and live in fear of losing the ones he loved? Jihoon wanted it more than anything. He wanted his biggest worry to be taxes and not death knocking on his door. He didn’t want to lose people. 

He wanted to be a cure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> road trip for jihoonie  
> i miss knowing what to say in these bits  
> anyway thanks for reading love u bye


	38. xxxvii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly longer chapter today! also theres like 700 words at the end that i added just now so 90% of this has been proofed 5x and then the ends been proofed like. once

Seungcheol spent Friday evening with Jihoon and stayed the night. Something told him that the boy needed the company, and he was right. Jihoon stayed snuggled up to Seungcheol’s side. He barely let go of his hand all evening. He held Seungcheol’s arm around him even at night. If he wasn’t going to sleep then he wanted to feel his lover’s warm embrace instead.

Jihoon made his way down to Mingyu’s place at eight. He had only been there once before. Pretty, organised flowers grew all over the front garden. A watering can stood by the path like it had just been put down momentarily and seed packets were scattered here and there, some full, some empty. It motivated Jihoon to do something about his own garden. All the flowers Joshua planted had now died, which Jihoon supposed was probably metaphorical or something. 

Movement in the curtains distracted Jihoon from the garden. Wonwoo looked through the window and waved. Jihoon nodded back.

As Mingyu and Wonwoo came outside, Seungcheol pulled Jihoon in for a hug that neither wanted to let go of. He held him tightly and kissed his forehead.

“Good luck,” he said, “and stay safe. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” the boy answered softly, “keep Jeonghan company until I’m back, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

They kissed on the lips (a real treat) and untangled themselves. Mingyu smiled optimistically at Jihoon.

“Let’s get going, shall we?”

Jihoon said another goodbye to Seungcheol with a nod. He didn’t need to say anything. Seungcheol understood. 

Jihoon and Mingyu got going. They walked towards the West gates; the ones closest to the medical centre and where a few cars sat. They still had gas in them. Mingyu knew which had the most, and the two got in. Mingyu put his backpack by Jihoon’s feet.

“There’s a few CDs in there,” he said, “so you can pick the music. There’s snacks too. Don’t eat them all though. They need to last a few days.”

Jihoon nodded as Mingyu started the car. He unzipped the bag and flicked through the music choices. Coldplay, Imagine Dragons, Ed Sheeran… the Imagine Dragons album art seemed to be an abandoned, rundown city. It fascinated him that pre-outbreak, they thought about apocalypse scenarios in films and books like it was fun. It was as though they jinxed it. So he chose that album. The volume began loud and the boy jumped. Mingyu laughed as he turned it down.

“Soonyoung and I got through about… six or seven albums last time.”

“Long journey,” Jihoon sighed.

“Yeah. Navigating Busan takes a while,” Mingyu said, “Half the buildings have fallen down. Have you ever been?”

“I grew up there.”

“Oh! Was it nice?”

Jihoon shrugged. “It’s nice enough, all things considered. I was happy and all until I started work.”

“You were a smuggler, right?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon sighed, “from age twelve. That’s why Jun shot me. I failed to deliver his brother. ‘Cos he died.”

Mingyu didn’t know whether to laugh or apologise; Jihoon spoke so casually. He spent so long deciding how to respond that it became too late. Jihoon didn’t care. He saw Mingyu's face and chuckled. He was very used to this from Seungcheol.

“You must’ve been through a lot,” the doctor said. Jihoon hummed. 

“Worth it if they can do something with my immunity,” he said. Mingyu agreed with a smile.

Jihoon finally felt tired now. Recently he always seemed to be tired until he got into bed, and last night he hadn’t even slept for a minute. He was dozing off now. He tried to stay awake so Mingyu had someone to talk to, but it was hard. Jihoon gave in. 

When he next opened his eyes, he saw the view from the car window. It was the ocean. It glistened a gorgeous shade of blue. The sunlight shone like glitter, dancing across the water and dazzling the sand as though they were gemstones. The diamond bridge stood across it in the distance, letting Jihoon know that they had arrived in his hometown. 

Mingyu sat at the steering wheel. He was staring at the view too. He was thinking hard about something. Truth was, he was nervous as well. What if they got something out of this? What if they got the information they needed to create vaccines, a cure, anything? What if their lives were about to change?

“Sorry for falling asleep,” Jihoon said, “I didn’t get any last night.”

Mingyu shook his head. “It’s fine. We just got here anyway. This isn’t the place, I just… needed a moment before we got there.”

“Okay.”

It was another few minutes until Mingyu started the car again. The nerves were creeping back to Jihoon’s stomach. There was nothing he wanted more than Seungcheol’s hand to hold. He looked at the scenery to distract him.

“I broke a guy’s arm in that building,” Jihoon said, pointing to the right. “Bitch jumped me.”

“How old were you then?”

“Fifteen.”

“...Yikes.” Mingyu was quiet for a bit and then added, “how old did you look at age fifteen?”

Jihoon snorted. “Like, twelve? At most.”

Mingyu began to laugh. “Imagine jumping a little boy who promptly breaks your arm.”

“I had massive cheeks too,” the boy said, “so I was literally this little marshmallow running around with other people’s drugs in my pocket and a gun in my hand.”

Jihoon had hated looking so young as a teenager, but now he knew it probably saved his life. Sometimes he got used by his partners as a “save me” tactic - “this is my little brother, our mum died, he’s sick and needs help” - and then they’d kill/attack the tricked enemy. It was humiliating, but it worked.

Mingyu turned a few corners and then they saw it. The hospital. It was dauntingly tall with its many levels. Its exterior, once white, was a dull cracked grey with plenty of greenery growing in the cracks. A few of the windows were smashed and the sign along the side has mostly fallen off so that only a few letters remained. Jihoon had driven past it a few times without giving it a second look. Now he was terrified.

The car approached metal gates. Mingyu wound the window down to speak through a buzzer.

“Can you please give your name and your business here?”

“Doctor Kim Mingyu. I’ve brought the immune patient.”

There was some murmuring through the speaker and then the gates opened. Mingyu drove through and parked the car near the entrance. Jihoon felt paralysed. He looked at Mingyu with fear in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu reassured him, “let’s go.”

Mingyu got out first. It somehow gave Jihoon the courage to get out too, except he fell out. His legs were stiff from the long ride and it took a rough toll on his already shitty leg, and as his feet hit the ground they decided that actually his weight was a bit too much and Jihoon collapsed. Mingyu tried not to laugh. He helped him up again and grabbed his cane from the car. Jihoon clung to it like a life source.

A woman with dark hair scraped into a tight bun met them at the door. Her sharp features were intimidating. Her nose probably could’ve knocked someone out with a headbutt. She looked Jihoon up and down. The boy hadn’t been scared of anyone in a while.

“So this is him,” she said. She bowed her head to Jihoon. “Dr Park Jiwon.”

Dr Park turned on her heels before Jihoon could greet her in return. She walked quickly and the boy struggled to keep up. To make matters worse, the elevators were long out of order so they had to take a few flights of stairs. Mingyu gave Jihoon an apologetic look. 

Several people walked past in the hallways, looking the guests up and down. They all wore white coats and some held clipboards and Jihoon wondered what work they actually had. He could only assume it was cordyceps related - what else was there these days?

They were led to a consultation room where another doctor waited. This one was a man who introduced himself as Jung Hyukjae. He was a little softer looking than Dr Park and Jihoon felt slightly more comfortable.

“So,” the man began, organising some paper, “mister…?”

“Jihoon,” said the boy quietly, “Lee Jihoon.”

They didn’t recognise it. Jihoon breathed out.

“Lee Jihoon. Immune to cordyceps, I understand?”

“We believe so.”

Jihoon removed the covering on his hand. It shook as he held it out so they could examine the scar. Dr Jung licked his thumb and rubbed it, then tried lightly scratching it. It wasn’t coming off, of course.

“When were you bitten?”

“December,” Jihoon answered, “about a week before Christmas. By a runner.”

The doctor was still peering over his hand whilst the other wrote some notes. 

“Your limp and your cane,” he brought up, “is that related to the bite at all?”

Jihoon shook his head. “No. I got shot in the back two weeks ago, so, uh, spinal cord damage.”

He had never said it out loud before. Whilst he fiddled with his fingers, the doctor raised his eyebrows. Jihoon guessed he hadn’t been there at Mingyu’s first arrival.

“And that’s been treated, has it?”

“We’ve done as much as we can,” Mingyu spoke up, “it’s stable and healing well. And yes, he receives physiotherapy.”

His defensiveness surprised Jihoon, but it made sense. Mingyu was the head doctor of a small village at a very young age and suddenly he was in front of a middle aged professional in a city. He had to step up to multiple roles at once - a GP, a surgeon, a physiotherapist, occupational therapist, god knows what else. It must’ve been difficult for him and yet he probably felt inadequate. Jihoon suddenly felt bad for him - and Wonwoo.

“I’d like to draw some blood,” Dr Jung said, “and take an MRI scan, if that’s okay. Cordyceps infects the brain so we can see if it’s had any effect there. The blood tests would be for antibodies.”

“Alright.”

Jihoon didn’t know what an MRI scan was, but Mingyu was calm so he decided it was fine. 

They got Jihoon to lay on the bed in the corner of the room first, and propped a cushion beneath his arm. A tourniquet squeezed his arm tight and he was told to open and close his fist several times very quickly. He looked nervously at Mingyu. His friend smiled reassuringly. Once the needle entered his arm, Jihoon squeezed his eyes shut. It stung more than he expected it to. It was funny how he could handle the sight of so much blood and gore, but felt sick when a needle entered his body.

Dr Park took the container of blood to the lab and Jihoon was glad to be shot of her. He was next led to the next floor up. This doctor was more considerate of his condition though and walked slowly, checking behind him that he kept up. He also apologised about the stairs. 

Jihoon was startled by the room they came to. There was a large circular tube in the corner of the room. He looked at Mingyu uncertainly, who smiled with reassurance. He was told the scan would take half an hour and that he was to wear headphones during it to block out some loud clicking noises the machine would make. It didn’t sound pleasant at all. They gave him a hospital gown to change into (to ensure no metal was on his person) and he changed in private. Mingyu took his things for safe keeping. Jihoon was then asked to lie down on a bed at its mouth. Once he was comfortable, it slid back so that he was inside the tube. It was a bad time to feel sick. 

Mingyu and the doctor stood in another room, seen through a glass pane. There was an intercom if Jihoon wanted to say something, and they could see him through the window. Jihoon just closed his eyes and got on with it. He wasn’t allowed to move and he had never needed to fiddle with his hands more.

After the longest thirty minutes of his life, the scan was complete and Jihoon was moved back out. He stumbled to the door and Mingyu handed him his cane. 

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” He said, rubbing the boy’s back. Jihoon just shot him a small smile.

It would be a while until they’d analysed the scans and completed everything they needed from the blood test. They were told they could stay the night and they accepted the offer. Jihoon didn’t feel safe enough in Busan to find somewhere. 

The two were shown to a room that was somewhat well kept (as good as you could get in post-outbreak society, really) and then left alone. The room contained two beds and one large window. Jihoon pulled up a chair and sat by it. It had an ocean view. You could even see the sandy beach that stretched for miles. The beach had always made Jihoon feel calm. In the early days of smuggling, his first long trips were often accompanied by a small break by the seaside. Jihoon would take his shoes and socks off and dig his toes in the sand, sometimes paddle in the water if it was hot. It always made him feel better. After Xiyan, it was where he went after his flashbacks and nightmares. Any body of water became his happy spot now. That was partially why he was so desperate to go to the lakes with Seungcheol.

“You okay?” Mingyu asked.

Jihoon shrugged. “Just… nervous.”

“I didn’t realise how funny you were with medical stuff,” his friend said fondly, “you’re always so tough and then there’s a needle or a big cylinder and you melt.”

“The only other healthcare I’ve received is loosely wrapped bandages,” Jihoon said with a chuckle, “I’ve never seen this stuff before. Is it normal to feel dizzy after a blood test, by the way?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Lie down if you need to.”

Jihoon insisted it was only when he was standing up, even though he was having a slight wave now and had done during the MRI too. He wanted to remain where he was, watching the soothing ocean.

“Is it tough?” Jihoon asked, “being the head doctor, I mean. Back home.”

“Uh.. sometimes.”

“Don’t you feel pressured?”

“Mm. It’s easier with Wonwoo now though. We do shifts during the day now so I actually get time off. It’s always nice. We could always do with more hands but no one wants to deal with the patrol accidents, do they? Even Wonwoo struggles. They can be pretty gruesome.”

“Like Joshua,” Jihoon said quietly.

“Like Joshua,” Mingyu agreed. “God, that was awful. I hate having to pretend not to be scared, you know? When Seungcheol brought you in, and I had to act like it was fine after I couldn’t save Joshua and had to watch Jeonghan suffer as a result, as if mourning for a close friend wasn’t bad enough alone.”

Jihoon thought back to when he had carried Seungcheol in. He supposed that was nothing compared to Joshua. At least Seungcheol was talking, even if it was between whimpers. 

“Why do you do it?” Jihoon asked, “is it just because no one else will? No one else wants to watch their friends die and feel responsible for it?”

Mingyu sighed. He scratched the back of his neck. “Partially. And partially it’s the pressure from my parents. My parents were doctors so they trained me from the age of thirteen. But also… it might be selfish, I don’t know, but it’s nice to know I help people. Everything’s so shit and even just a smile from a kid in the street who knows me from when they split their chin open can make everything feel better. There’s people in town who would’ve died without treatment. So that feels good.”

Jihoon nodded. He stared at the ocean for a while before speaking again.

“And when people die?” He asked, “how doesn’t it eat you alive?”

“Fate,” Mingyu said simply, “I convince myself it’s fate. Joshua, for example… from where he was when he got shot and how difficult it would’ve been for Jeonghan to get him to town without so much blood loss to kill him, he didn’t stand a chance. Did you see his leg? And how much of it was ripped out? The blood loss was brutal. He never would’ve survived amputation.”

“And that makes you feel better?”

Mingyu sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “A little. I have to remind myself of it a lot, don’t get me wrong.” 

Jihoon drew his legs up beneath his chin, hugging them as he did so. 

“You’re a really good doctor, Gyu,” he said quietly. He always felt safe in his care. Mingyu had even been reassuring when Jihoon first arrived in Taesu.

“Thanks, Hoon.”

Jihoon focused on the view, timing his breaths with the crash of the ocean on the shore. He convinced himself that everything would be alright. At least Mingyu was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two more chapters after this one!!! thank u for all ur support so far ily  
> thanks for reading love u bye


	39. update/notice thing

hi!! sorry that this isnt a chapter but we have a Slight Problem

basically ch39 has mingyu all over it and hes a vital part of this chapter so with the current allegations im not sure how good of an idea it is to post it yet

if youre all happy for me to post it and finish the fic in the next few days thats fine im happy to i just dont think its the best timing even tho i was really looking forward to getting this chapter up since i wrote it in january

ill still post it eventually anyway (after things have been sorted/cleared up) but i dont know how long thats going to be so i thought id put up this little update notice thing to explain, ill delete it when i put up ch39

i was planning on finishing the fic last weekend so im sorry for this delay but i hope you all understand and thank you so much for your support so far

thanks for reading love u bye!!


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